


The Only Boy Who Could Ever Teach Me was the Son of a Preacher Man

by anc



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Boy Dean, Blasphemy, Bondage, Bottom Castiel, Bullying, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Religious Castiel, Rough Sex, Slow Build, Top Dean, Underage Drinking, Verbal Abuse, preacher's son Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3132758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anc/pseuds/anc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean's family moved to Springfield, Louisiana, the troubled sixteen year old thought his life was over. The small town was boring, hidden away in the woods, and there was absolutely nothing to there expect go to church. And considering Dean didn't believe in God, that was not something he was eager to try out. Or at least not until a chance meeting with the preacher's son forces Dean to rethink his piety...or the lack thereof.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thou Shalt Not Give Into Temptation

Dean absolutely hated moving. 

He hated getting used to a new state, a new town, a new house, the awkward struggle of making new friends, just to have his dad get a promotion or for him to be relocated for a different assignment. 

And he really fucking hated the fact that his father’s newest construction job had sent the Winchesters to some backwoods town in nowhere Louisiana. 

Springfield, Louisiana to be exact. Population 474…Well, 478 if you included the Winchesters. 

Dean and his family had moved to six different states in the last year, but he could already tell that Louisiana was by far the lamest, and certainly the most boring of them all. 

“This place blows!” Sam, Dean’s angsty younger brother whined as he helped their mother unpack the kitchen supplies. 

Sam was a good kid, he really was, but he was thirteen and going through an “I hate everything and everyone” phase.

“Samuel, we’ve been in this town for a grand total of four hours. You know as well as I do that you don’t have a right to your opinion without at least giving this place a couple of days,” Mary scolded. 

“…I don’t know mom, I think I’m with Sammy on this one,” Dean chimed in as he put their silverware in the drawer next to the sink. 

“Both of you, enough. If your father heard you two bad mouthing this place without even giving it a chance, he’d be livid,” Mary warned her sons, letting out a frustrated sigh when Sam shot Dean an “I could give a shit less what dad would think” look. 

Oh Sammy. He was such a rebellious little shit. It was kind of funny actually, considering Dean had always been the smartass, black sheep type but when Sam turned thirteen, shit. Now his older brother couldn’t even hold a candle to him. 

And Dean wasn’t the least bit ashamed to say that he was damn proud of Sam for giving that drill sergeant they called a father hell. 

“Hey mom? Do you think Dean and I could go check out the neighborhood? Just for a little bit, we’ll be back before dad gets home, promise!” Sam begged, and Dean wasted little time joining his brother in giving Mary the best set of puppy dog eyes he could muster. 

With John Winchester at work, surveying his new construction site and not due back home until late that evening, the boys had to jump at their opportunity to take advantage of their mother’s leniency. 

“…What about your poor mother? Are you two are just going to leave me to unpack the rest of the kitchen by myself?” Mary asked, folding her arms across her chest. 

“…What? No!” Sam replied sheepishly and Dean had to hold back a snicker. 

“Just get out of my sight, you little hellions,” Mary ordered, a playful smile on her face. “But you two better not get into any trouble, you hear me? I mean it, _Dean_! And I want you both home by seven! It’s supposed to rain tonight and I don’t want you two getting sick,” she shouted as both boys scrambled out the door. 

“Dude, why does she always single me out? You’re just as much of a juvenile delinquent as I am,” Dean huffed when the two of them were out of Mary’s ear shot and walking down the road in front of their new house. 

“That might be true, but I’m also sneakier than you. Mr. I’ve been arrested twice and suspended from four different schools,” Sam retorted, punching his older brother in the shoulder playfully. 

It was true; Dean did lack finesse when it came to not getting caught, whether it be him getting in to a fight or drinking underage. Or on one occasion, both. What could he say? He played hard, and sometimes the consequences were steep. 

That was just something he had learned to deal with...not that that was necessarily a good thing. 

“Oh, you think you’re sneaky, huh? Come here, ya little punk!” Dean laughed, running after his little brother who took off down the street. 

“You’re too slow, grandpa!” Sam yelled back at Dean as he picked up his speed. 

Damn that little bastard was fast. In no time, Dean had already chased him down the dirt road, yes the dirt fucking road, which led out of their “neighborhood”, if you could call a handful of houses out in middle of the woods a neighborhood, and down to the ragged, little one room church that was located on a large stretch of land that belonged to the town’s preacher. 

“Just you wait, brat! You have to come home eventually!” Dean wheezed, stopping just in front of the steps of the sun worn structure, bending over to put his hands on his knees and inhaling deeply through his nose and out through his mouth. 

“…Are…you okay?” 

A soft but gravelly voice suddenly broke the silence that had befallen Dean, causing him to jump. 

Looking to his left, Dean noticed a dark haired boy, who was probably the same age as him, with fair skin and the most intense blue eyes he’d ever seen sitting on the front steps of the church, reading a large, tattered book titled _Left Behind_. 

“…What? Oh, yeah…I’m good. Just trying to pummel my little brother but he’s fast for a nerd,” Dean explained, offering the boy a bright smile. “…Not that there’s anything wrong with being a nerd…” he added, rethinking his statement when he examined the boy more closely and saw that he was wearing perfectly polished shoes, black slacks, and a pressed white button down shirt. 

Oh yeah. This kid was a nerd if Dean had ever seen one. Like, the **king** of the nerds. 

“Yes, I am aware that there is nothing wrong with being a nerd,” the boy replied coolly, shutting his book before standing up to offer Dean his hand. “I am Castiel Milton, by the way.”

“Dean Winchester,” Dean said, shaking Castiel’s hand. 

“You just moved into the old Defoe place, right?” Castiel asked with mild interest, and if Dean was being honest, he really didn’t like the air of entitlement surrounding him. 

“Yeah, my dad is the lead construction worker on the new mall being built a couple miles north of here,” Dean explained, earning a dirty look from Castiel. 

“I see. Well, I am sorry to hear that your father is involved with a project that is sure to ruin this town,” Castiel sneered. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? That mall is going to bring in a ton of revenue,” Dean argued, letting his agitation get the best of him. 

Who in the Hell did this kid think he was?

“…I can assure you there is no need for profanity,” Castiel grumbled. “And the mall might increase the town’s profit, but it will also increase its greed and most likely lead many people into sin.”

“…Wasn’t aware that shopping was so immoral,” Dean teased, trying to hold back a laugh when Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed together in frustration. 

“The act of shopping is not immoral…it is what some people may buy that I am worried about,” Castiel explained. 

“Most malls don't have full blown sex shops in them, Cas,” Dean laughed, not sure where the nickname had come from. 

Oh well, Castiel was a mouth full. 

“…My name is _Castiel_. And…I knew that,” the other boy stuttered, looking down at his feet nervously. 

What the actual fuck? Was this kid for real?

“My bad, _Castiel_ ,” Dean taunted. “Anyway…What are you doing out here all alone?”

“…I like to come out here to read. It is quiet and the church is a safe place for me to reflect on my thoughts,” Castiel told him. 

“So, I’m guessing you’re a bible thumper?” Dean asked, immediately regretting his choice of words when Castiel’s expression hardened. 

“I am religious, yes. And I take pride in spreading the word of the Lord,” Castiel gritted out. 

“Sorry man, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Dean apologized sincerity. 

“…It is...alright. I am used to people teasing me about my faith…Comes with the territory of growing up a preacher’s son,” Castiel sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

Ah ha! So Castiel was the preacher’s son? Dean honestly couldn’t say that he was shocked by the information. But he definitely was intrigued. 

“Well preacher’s son, you wanna help me find my elusive little brother? And maybe afterward we could hangout for a while, get to know each other?” Dean flirted, taking a couple steps toward Castiel. 

What? Castiel might have been pretentious and kind of a jackass, but there was no denying that he was hot. And Dean could totally work with that. Just because he wanted to punch the guy in the face as of that moment, didn't mean his dick wasn't completely into those beautiful blue eyes and that lean, strong jaw. Holy fuck. 

Even though befriending Castiel wasn’t ideal, it definitely beat wondering around some strange town by himself looking for Sammy. 

“…You…want to hangout with me?” Castiel asked incredulously, as though the very idea of Dean wanting to share his company was downright unfathomable. 

“Yeah, why not? You’re pretty cute and with a little bit of time and effort, I'm sure we can remove that stick that’s been firmly wedged up your ass,” Dean joked, chuckling when Castiel let out a surprised squawk. 

“You should not curse, Dean…and you most certainly should not comment on my…appearance,” Castiel stuttered, his cheeks the color of a fire truck. 

“And why’s that? I’m not lying or being mean, so why shouldn’t I tell you that you’re cute?” Dean questioned, taking another step toward Castiel so that his face was inches away from the other boy’s. 

“…because it is wrong…” Castiel whispered, his chest visibly heaving as he trailed his bright blue eyes down Dean’s face to stare longingly at his pouty lips. 

“Really? Who says it’s wrong, Cas?” Dean asked huskily, leaning forward so that his mouth was dangerously close to Castiel’s, driving the other boy crazy. 

“…God!” Castiel replied suddenly, shoving Dean in the chest in a desperate attempt to create space between them. 

And then, without another word, Castiel stormed off toward the large farm house that was looming in the background behind the church. 

Well, that was certainly interesting. 

Cocking his head to the side, Dean watched thoughtfully as Castiel hurried through the field that led to his house before he entered the front door, slamming it behind him without giving Dean so much as a backward glance. 

“God also says not to wear clothes that are made of wool and linen together! Pretty sure we should take what the dude says with a big ol’ grain of salt!” Dean shouted to nobody in particular before letting out an overdramatic sigh. 

Shaking his head, Dean then decided it was way too stalkerish to go over to Castiel’s house, even if it would be with the intension of apologizing. Not that he felt the need to apologize, because he damn well didn’t. Dean wasn’t fucking blind; he had noticed the way Castiel was looking at him, his piercing blue eyes begging for Dean to make a move. But it was clear that Castiel was so far in denial, and the closet for that matter, that he didn’t see it that way. Which was why Dean had even considered apologizing in the first place. 

“Dean! What the hell, man?” Sam yelled suddenly, pulling Dean away from his thoughts.

“Dude, there you are! Where the fuck have you been?” Dean asked, grabbing his little brother and putting him in a headlock.

“I could ask you the same questioned,” Sam grumbled, fighting to get free of Dean’s grasp. “And why the actual fuck do you have a boner?!” 

“What? I don’t!” Dean protested, releasing Sam quickly, his face bright red. 

He really didn’t have a boner. He was half hard at best. 

“You totally do! Jesus, dude. We haven’t even been here a day and you’re already breaking hearts?” Sam asked playfully, jogging after Dean who had set off down the road back to their house. 

“…Shut up…” Dean shot back lamely. 

“What’s her name?” Sam inquired, refusing to drop the subject. 

“ _His_ name is Castiel…but nothing is going to happen between us so stop talking about it,” Dean ordered. 

“Castiel, huh? That’s an interesting name…And save that lie for someone who doesn’t know you, brother. The dude made you pop a boner, and I’m assuming that was with both of you being fully dressed…You’re interested in him, it’s obvious. And you’re totally going to make him your next conquest,” Sam taunted. 

“I don’t have conquests!” Dean protested angrily. 

“No, you don’t have girlfriends or boyfriends. You definitely have conquests,” Sam retorted as they reached their front porch. 

“Fuck you,” Dean grumbled before going inside, slamming the front door in his little brother’s face.

So what if Sam was right? Fine, he’d admit it! Dean didn’t date, he just fucked. Sue him! It wasn’t like he had to worry about anything happening with the innocent preacher’s son anyway. Dean would probably be lucky if Castiel ever spoke to him again, to be honest. Not that he cared. Dude was a stuck up jackass, and Dean could care less about him. 

…Or at least that was the lie he was trying to convince himself of.


	2. "Save Me and I Will Be Saved, For You Are the One I Praise"

After his run-in with Castiel on the day he moved to Louisiana, Dean didn’t see hide nor hair from the kid for the rest of the week.

 

It was like the preacher’s son had just up and vanished. Which in the long run, was seriously not good for Dean.

 

One, because it was the summer before his sophomore year of high school and he had absolutely no friends to speak of, and two, because those damn gorgeous blue eyes of Castiel’s were seriously haunting his dreams.

 

He wouldn’t go as far as to say that he was obsessed with Castiel but…okay, maybe he was a teeny, tiny bit obsessed with him. Hey, it wasn’t Dean’s fault though! He’d just never encountered anyone like Castiel before and he, well, mostly his cock, was extremely interested to see what made the dude tick. Castiel was holier-than-thou and from what Dean could tell, a complete jackass, but for some fucked up reason his douchey personality, along with his ridiculous good looks, had Dean reeling.  

 

And truthfully, he was going downright crazy thinking he’d never see the object of his affection again.

 

However, when he was woken up by his father bright and early Sunday morning and informed that he and his family were going to church, Dean knew it wouldn’t be long before he saw the handsome blue eyed boy again.

 

And under normal circumstances, he would have been ridiculously happy about that fact. But not at the butt crack of dawn when he could have been sleeping instead of getting ready for church.

 

“What the fuck, dad? You’ve never forced us to go to church before! Why are you starting now?” Dean asked irritably as he sat down at the kitchen table to eat breakfast with his family.

 

“Watch your mouth, boy,” John warned, adjusting the green tie that he was wearing. “It will do this family some good to be a part of a community, get involved with the locals.”

 

“Oh, I get it. You want to prove to everyone in this town that we aren’t a bunch of heathens and you think the best way to do that is to play adorable little church going family?” Sam asked sarcastically, earning a scowl from John. “Well guess what, dude? Lying is a sin,” he added.

 

“Welp, that’s one point for Sammy and a big ol’ fat goose egg for the old man,” Dean laughed as he pulled at the black suit he was sporting, feeling like a fish out of water in anything that wasn’t his normal outfit of jeans and a t-shirt.

 

“For once, could you both stop giving your father a hard time and just do what’s asked of you without a fight?” Mary inquired as she sat a plate of pancakes on the kitchen table along with a bottle of syrup.

 

“Not a chance in Hell,” Dean huffed.

 

“Nope,” Sam added before both Dean and he began to make their plates.

 

“How about this, you little assholes? You are both going to church and you are both going to be polite and respectful or you’re grounded…for a month,” John growled, eliciting loud, angry protests from his sons.

 

“This is blackmail!” Sam complained.

 

“Life’s a bitch, son. Write your congressman,” John shot back.

 

Sighing loudly, Dean decided not to argue, mentally cursing his father as he ate his breakfast and dreaded having to sit in a stuffy, broken down church for a whole hour listening to some dude spout out nonsense he didn’t believe.

 

What a fantastic start his day!

 

 

 

 

_**OoOoOoOoOoO** _

 

 

 

It was official.

 

Dean was going to kill himself.

 

No, really. He was seriously going to slit both his wrists right there in the pew if the preacher didn’t shut his damn mouth soon.

 

The service had started at 9 a.m. sharp and it was now 11 the fuck o’clock. Dean was more than positive this type of torture was unconstitutional.

 

Letting out a loud, obnoxious sigh, Dean was seriously thinking about making a break for it when Mr. Milton finally wrapped up his sermon. Not that it matter at that point though, Dean had already missed the first pitch of the Ranger’s game.

 

All thanks to that long-winded bastard!

 

“Well what do you know, both my sons survived,” Mary taunted when the congregation was dismissed.

 

“Just fucking barely,” Dean complained, chuckling when both his mother and his father reprimanded him for swearing in a church.

 

“C’mon, let’s go say hello to the preacher,” John ordered, leading his family out to the front of the building where Mr. Milton was standing at the bottom of the steps, talking and shaking hands with members of his flock.

 

“Mr. Milton! Hello, I’m John Winchester,” John said politely, shaking the other man’s outstretched hand.

 

“Oh, Mr. Winchester! It’s lovely to meet you. This must be your wife, Mary,” the preacher mused, shaking Mary’s hand as well.

 

It was no surprise that Mr. Milton knew who Mary was, of course. Springfield was an obscenely small town, the smallest the Winchesters had ever lived in, and word traveled fast about new inhabitants.

 

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Mary told him. “I’d like to induce my sons, Dean and Sam,” she added, smiling fondly at her boys.

 

“Good to meet you, Mr. Milton,” Sam said brightly, putting on his best game face as he shook the older man’s hand.

 

“Likewise Sam,” the preacher replied warmly.

 

“Mr. Milton, it’s nice to meet you,” Dean greeted, taking his turn to shake the preacher’s hand.

 

“Nice to meet you as well, Dean,” Mr. Milton said happily, although he was wearing a strained expression, like he’d rather take a swan dive off a bridge than shake Dean’s hand.

 

But Dean honestly couldn’t say that he was surprised. If Mr. Milton had looked into his family, then he was sure to know about Dean’s shady past and his multiple brushes with the law.

 

Although, he was a little taken aback that a man of God would be so judgey. Especially when he didn’t know anything but a couple of rumors about Dean.

 

“Oh, and this is my son, Castiel,” the preacher added, motioning for the blue eyed boy, who had just emerged from the church, to come down the steps and join them.

 

“Heya Cas,” Dean flirted, giving Castiel one of his best smiles.

 

And even though he knew it was cruel, Dean couldn’t help but revel in the sick feeling of satisfaction he got from watching Castiel squirm.

 

“Hello Dean,” Castiel replied curtly, cowering behind his father as though he were using the older man as a shield.

 

“Dude, the preacher’s son?!” Sam asked suddenly, punching Dean in the arm.

 

Exchanging questioning glances, John and Mary eyed their sons suspiciously, waiting for one of them to explain.

 

“Castiel, what’s going on? Do you know this boy?” Mr. Milton finally inquired, looking at his son with a confused expression.

 

“…Dean and I are…acquaintances…We met earlier in the week,” Castiel explained, his cheeks dark with blush as a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead.

 

“Acquaintances? Oh yeah, that's right. Cas here did turn down my offer to hangout,” Dean interjected, causing Castiel to let out a strangled noise.

 

“That’s not what happened _verbatim_ ,” Castiel argued, shooting Dean a dirty look. “…It was getting late…I thought it would be best if I just went home,” he mumbled.

 

Raising both his eyebrows, Dean resisted the urge to taunt Castiel about going to Hell for lying.

 

“Oh, well why don’t you two go to lunch now? Get to know each other? Perhaps you and Dean could become friends?” Mr. Milton suggested, basically telling his son that he was a loner and in desperate need of human contact, even if it was with a delinquent like Dean, without actually coming out and speaking the words.

 

Well hot damn. Thank you preacher man for taking care of the hard part! If only Mr. Milton knew about Dean’s filthy intentions toward his son. He definitely wouldn’t have been so eager to pawn Castiel off on him.

 

“…No, I’m sure Dean has things to do…” Castiel stuttered, the look in his shimmering blue eyes begging Dean to take pity on him.

 

Poor kid. Too bad Dean was too much of a sadistic asshole to oblige him.

 

“Don’t be silly, Cas. I’d love to go to lunch with you,” Dean said cheerfully, smirking when he heard Sam let out a barely audible giggle.

 

“Perfect, why don’t you take my car, Castiel? And please be home by four. You have chores to do,” Mr. Milton informed his son.

 

“…Yes father…” Castiel sighed, taking the car keys that Mr. Milton offered him before motioning for Dean to follow as he headed toward a very old, very grey station wagon.

 

“Catch ya later,” Dean yelled over his shoulder at his family as he jogged after Castiel.

 

“Be good!” Mary ordered, receiving a sly wink from her eldest son before he got into Mr. Milton’s car.

 

“Jesus, I should have introduced myself to your dad days ago. If I had, this would probably be our third or fourth date, not our first,” Dean teased once he was settled, watching as Castiel put on his seat beat.

 

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Dean,” Castiel chided, refusing to look at the other boy. “And this is **not** a date. I’m not gay, and I don’t support or have much tolerance for those who are. Homosexuality is a sin.”

 

“You aren’t gay, huh?” Dean asked, a cocky smile tugging at the corner of his lips as Castiel put the car in drive and headed toward town.

 

“No, I’m not,” Castiel replied, his voice unsteady to say the least.

 

“Ya know, Cas… _Lying_ is also a sin,” Dean said huskily, reaching over to run his hand up the other boy’s thigh.

 

“…I’m…not lying,” Castiel gritted out, his grip on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white as a sheet of paper.

 

“It’s okay, honestly. Your secret is safe with me, baby,” Dean cooed as he slipped his hand between Castiel’s legs, massaging his cock through his slacks. “I promise, I won't tell anyone about the dirty things I plan to do to you.”

 

Letting out a strangled moan, Castiel involuntarily bucked his hips, grinding against Dean’s palm. And son of a bitch if the look on his face wasn’t the guiltiest, most innocent thing Dean had ever seen.

 

Well fuck. If there was a Hell, Dean was sure he had just secured an express, one way ticket downstairs.

 

“St-stop!” Castiel ordered through clenched teeth, pushing Dean’s hand away just when his cock started to respond. “…Don’t ever put your hands on me like that again or…or I’ll tell my father you sexually assaulted me.”

 

“I think we both know you aren’t going to do that,” Dean chuckled before licking his lips, the action sending a shiver up Castiel’s spine.

 

“Really? And what makes you so sure?” Castiel asked angrily, keeping his eyes glued to the road.

 

“Cause baby, if you run and tell daddy about what just happened, you know he’ll put a stop to me touching you once and for all. And that’s the last thing you want to happen,” Dean explained, earning an indignant look from the boy sitting next to him.

 

“…You are…infuriating! And presumptuous!” Castiel chastised as he pulled into the parking lot of a little ma and pa restaurant that was literally no bigger than Dean’s living room.

 

“I’ve been called worse,” Dean laughed. “But here’s the thing, I don’t hear you arguing with what I just said. It’s really okay, Cas. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting me to touch you, to make you feel good,” Dean assured him, cautiously laying his hand on Castiel’s thigh once he had parked the car and turned off the engine.

 

“There are _SO_ many things wrong with that, Dean. Homosexuality, engaging in sexual acts outside the sanctity of marriage…and grotesquely long list of other sins,” Castiel said coldly as he roughly shoved Dean’s hand away and got out of the car.

 

Hurrying after Castiel, Dean exited the vehicle and had to run to the front door of the restaurant to catch up with the preacher’s son who seemed to be moving at the speed of fucking light.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean breathed out as they stood at the hostess’ station waiting for someone to seat them. “Are you trying to tell me you’re a virgin?”

 

“…Really, Dean? I tell you our immortal souls are in danger of eternal damnation and my virginity is all you can focus on?” Castiel shot back, his face going pale when a young girl appeared and asked them if they’d like a booth or a table.

 

“A table please, thank you Ginny,” Castiel answered before Dean could even register the question.

 

Smiling, the girl nodded, grabbed two menus and led the boys to a small table by a window at the front of the restaurant.

 

“Enjoy you two. Ryan will be right over,” Ginny informed them, giving Castiel one last smile before heading back to her station.

 

“Yes,” Dean said finally, startling Castiel who had just begun to examine his menu. “Your virginity is the only thing I can focus on…At least tell me you’ve experience an orgasm...You know? Done a little self-service?”

 

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel hissed, looking around frantically as though he truly believed God himself was going to descend from the Heavens and smite them both. “Don’t use such vulgar language in a public place. It’s offensive.”

 

Snorting, Dean made a sweeping motion with his hand around the empty restaurant before raising an eyebrow at Castiel.

 

“Who am I going to offend, Cas? We’re the only ones here…and besides, orgasm isn’t a bad word,” Dean stated simply, smirking when Castiel visibly cringed.

 

“And what about me, Dean? Are you not concerned about offending me?” Castiel asked, narrowing his eyes at the other boy.

 

“You’re not offended. Turned on? Probably. But not offended,” Dean chuckled, loving the infuriated look on Castiel’s face.

 

He knew he was being downright mean, but Dean was having way too much fun pushing Castiel’s buttons to stop.

 

“Nothing about you, not you’re vulgar mouth nor your blatant disregard for personal space, arouses me, Dean,” Castiel gritted out, turning an even darker shade of red when their waiter came up to the table and took their drink orders.

 

“Oh really?” Dean asked cockily once their waiter was out of ear shot. “So earlier I just imagined you loving every minute of my hand on you cock, right?”

 

“Dean…please…” Castiel begged, nervously fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

 

“How about this, Cas? If you can look me in the eyes and tell me with conviction that you truly want me to stop flirting with you, I will. Simple as that,” Dean said, staring lustfully into Castiel’s hypnotic blue eyes.

 

Fuck, they were something else. Dean honestly couldn’t remember the last time he was or if he had ever been that attracted to a pair of fucking eyes before.

 

“…I…” Castiel mumbled before swallowing hard. “I…don’t want…”

 

“C’mon Cas. Say it, say you don’t want me to hit on you anymore,” Dean demanded, his heart doing a tap dance in his chest.

 

It wasn’t that he wanted Castiel to reject him, because he really fucking didn’t. But Dean also didn’t want to keep flirting with the preacher’s son if Castiel _truly_ wasn’t into him. Dean liked a challenged as much as the next guy, but he was not at all into pressuring people into doing something they didn’t want to do.

 

Attempting to speak once more, Castiel looked as though he were finally going to spit out the words when Dean gave him a seductive, toothy grin, causing him to hang his head in shame, his mouth snapping shut.

 

“Are you two ready to order?” their waiter asked suddenly as he sat their drinks down in front of them.

 

Nodding, Castiel ordered his lunch quickly before lowering his head once more, not bothering to lift it even after the waiter had taken Dean’s order as well and disappeared, leaving the two of them alone.

 

“Cas,” Dean said, getting the boy’s attention by gently nudging his knee against his.

 

And once Castiel was looking at him, Dean smiled, his green eyes boring into a sea of electric blue.

 

“Please…please don’t do this, Dean….” Castiel pleaded, although his expression had softened.

 

“Don’t do what, baby?” Dean asked, titling his head to the side curiously.

 

“Please don’t lead me into sin,” Castiel nearly whispered, holding his gaze.

 

Letting out a defeated sigh, Dean nodded his head.

 

He wanted Castiel, there was no denying that, but damn it, the kid was just too innocent. Dean didn’t want to be responsible for “damning” anyone’s soul. Because even though he didn’t believe that bullshit, Castiel certainly did. And besides, it would most likely be difficult to enjoy fucking Castiel when he knew that the preacher's son believed any orgasm Dean gave him was just paving his path to Hell.

 

“…Can we at least be friends?" Dean questioned, unable to stop himself from brushing his fingertips over the hand that Castiel had lying palm down on the table.

 

“You really want to be my friend?” Castiel asked skeptically, flinching slightly at Dean’s touch but not pulling his hand away.

 

“Honestly? What I **want** is to be inside you, but I’ll settle for friendship,” Dean teased, letting out a loud belly laugh when Castiel jerked away from his touch violently.

 

“You have to stop saying such sinful things, Dean,” Castiel chided, the collar of his shirt damp with sweat.

 

“Alright, baby, alright, I’ll try. But I don’t make any promises. I’ve got a pretty sinful mouth,” Dean said huskily, giving Castiel a sly wink.

 

“And…you have to stop calling me…baby,” Castiel added breathlessly.

 

“Why? Don’t you like it?” Dean asked innocently before taking a long, slow drink of his water.

 

“…Yes…” Castiel replied, his voice barely audible. “…That’s the problem…”

 

Sighing, Dean shook his head as he sat the glass in his hand back down on the table.

 

“It’s going to be a long dam- darn summer,” he huffed, his chest swelling with pride when Castiel smiled at his self-censorship.

 

“…I don’t have friends…I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do,” Castiel confessed, biting his bottom lip nervously.

 

Jesus. This kid was seriously trying to kill him with cuteness. And it was fucking working.

 

“We’re just supposed to hangout. You know, watch movies, play video games, that sort of stuff,” Dean explained. “Hey, why don’t you come over to my house tomorrow? We can watch Episode IV.”

 

“…Episode IV of what?” Castiel inquired, his eyebrows welded together in confusion.

 

“A New Hope,” Dean clarified.

 

“Forgive me, I don’t watch much television…Is that a new show?” Castiel asked, causing Dean’s jaw to fall open in shock.

 

“Episode IV, A New Hope, Cas! You know, Star Wars?!” Dean questioned incredulously.

 

“…Oh…I’ve never seen Star Wars,” Castiel admitted nervously.

 

“Dear God, you poor, sheltered child. I’m pretty sure going sixteen years without viewing a Star Wars movie is a cardinal sin,” Dean taunted. “Don’t worry though, you can repent tomorrow.”

 

“Stop blaspheming, Dean. It’s not funny,” Castiel scolded as their waiter dropped off their food.

 

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop. But you’re coming over tomorrow and we are marathoning Star Wars,” Dean told him before taking a huge bite of his bacon cheeseburger.

 

“…I’d…like that,” Castiel agreed, chuckling when Dean smiled at him, his mouth full of chewed beef.

 

Hey, it might not have been much, but at least he got Castiel to laugh. And fuck if Dean didn’t love the sound.

 

So, he’d have to be good for now, give Castiel time to adjust, allow the preacher’s son to come to him. Dean could do that.

 

Well, hopefully.

 

…Winchesters weren’t exactly known for their patience though…It would be interesting to see how long Dean could keep up the good boy act before he was laying on the charm thick once more. Finger crossed that he could resist the urge to hit on Castiel, because he knew with a little bit more pressure, the blue eyed boy would be putty in his hands. Dean wasn't blind, he could tell Castiel wanted him just as much as he wanted Castiel. He could see it in his eyes and in the way his body reacted anytime Dean was near him. The only problem was that Castiel would never act on his urges unless Dean coaxed him into it.

 

And that wasn’t what _he_ wanted. Dean wanted Castiel to come to him, to seduce him.

 

If only his cock wanted the same thing. Impatient bastard.


	3. The Lord is My Shepherd; I Shall Not Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say a special thanks to my buddy Kharisma21 for agreeing to beta for me! <3 You are awesome!

Dean was damn proud of himself.

 

Granted he shouldn’t be, considering the task he had accomplished would have been extremely easy for anyone with impulse control, but screw it! He was taking any victory he could get, even the little ones.

 

And at the moment, he was mentally patting himself on the back for making it all the way through lunch, _A New Hope_ , **AND** _The Empire Strikes Back_ without touching Castiel inappropriately.

 

Which was really fucking hard, by the way.

 

Especially with Castiel sitting on his bed, so close that Dean had to resist the urge to run his fingertips down the length of his arm, watching Star Wars as if his life depended on it. Not to mention, it was driving him fucking crazy that the preacher’s son was dressed in his signature black slacks with an immaculately pressed white button down shirt, looking like a cute little Sunday school boy.

 

Ah fuck. It was official, Dean had a fetish.

 

“…Why do you keep staring at me?” Castiel asked suddenly, shooting Dean a sideways glance. “Do I have pizza on my face?” he wondered, wiping the corners of his mouth.

 

“No! You’re good…I’m just…” Dean stuttered, biting his tongue to keep from finishing his sentence with “admiring the view.”

 

“Just what?” Castiel inquired, shifting his body and in the process, accidently brushing his leg against Dean’s.

 

Shit.

 

Well, at least Dean tried.

 

“Don’t judge me, Cas,” Dean teased, gently resting his hand on the other boy’s knee. “It’s not my fault that handsome face of yours is distracting.”

 

“…Dean…” Castiel whispered, his cheeks heating up with blush as he bowed his head.

 

“So how about it, buddy? You a Star Wars fan?” Dean asked, slowly running his fingertips up Castiel’s leg, fiddling with one the seam in his slacks.

 

“…So far, yes,” Castiel mumbled, his leg tensing under Dean’s touch although he didn’t attempt to move it away. “…I appreciate that the story is about the struggle between good and evil, and that it portrays a man who is inherently good but still feels compelled, at times, to give into temptation,” he explained, reaching out with a shaky hand to gingerly brush his fingers over Dean’s knuckles.

 

And holy fuck if the action didn’t send a jolt of electricity through Dean’s entire body.

 

“Why am I not surprised to hear that you have some complicated explanation as to why you like the series? Couldn’t just like it for the badass spaceships and the lightsabers, could ya Cas?” Dean asked teasingly, slipping his hand between Castiel’s legs to massage the inside of his right thigh.

 

“…Those aspects of the film are intriguing as well,” Castiel said breathlessly, turning his head away when Dean attempted to kiss him.

 

“C’mon, ba-I mean, Cas…Please let me kiss you,” Dean begged, taking the other boy’s chin between his thumb and index finger in order to force Castiel to look him in the eyes.

 

“Why would I do that, Dean? My issues with homosexuality aside, I do not know you. Why would I let a complete stranger kiss me?” Castiel inquired, his body visibly trembling.

 

Contemplating his answer for a moment, an idea suddenly popped into Dean’s head and he couldn’t help but smile cockily.

 

“You have a valid point, handsome. So why don’t we compromise? I’ll answer any questions you have about me as long as you let me kiss you after each answer,” Dean explained, chuckling when Castiel made a startled noise.

 

“…Do you promise to answer truthfully?” Castiel asked hesitantly, and Dean nearly did a happy dance at the fact that he was even considering his offer.

 

“Promise, Cas,” Dean replied, unable to stop himself from gently running his thumb over Castiel’s bottom lip, causing the blue eyed boy to shudder.

 

Remaining silent for what seemed like a lifetime, Castiel just looked at Dean nervously, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.

 

“…O-okay…Just give me your word that you will not t-touch me inappropriately and that you will stop kissing me if I ask you to,” Castiel finally whispered, avoiding eye contact with Dean.

 

“I’ll keep my hands above your waist at all times and if you tell me to stop kissing you, I’ll back off. No questions asked,” Dean reassured him.

 

“Okay,” Castiel repeated, blush covering his face and neck.

 

“Awesome. So here are the rules: you ask me a question and I answer. Once you are satisfied with that answer, I get to kiss you, deal?” Dean inquired as he tilted Castiel’s head up so he could see his face.

 

“D-deal,” Castiel agreed, his voice low and unsure.

 

“Okay then, shoot,” Dean said, giving Castiel the biggest, brightest smile he could muster.

 

“Why were you arrested?” Castiel blurted out, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

 

“You been digging up dirt on me, Cas?” Dean chuckled.

 

“..No!...It’s just Springfield is a small town…People talk…it is hard to avoid hearing rumors…” Castiel stuttered, looking at Dean apologetically.

 

“Dude, it’s all good, I’m not upset. I don’t give a shit what people say about me,” Dean scoffed.

 

“…So…why were you arrested?” Castiel asked again, this time a bit more timidly.

 

“Which time, baby?” Dean inquired playfully, mentally kicking himself for using the pet name Castiel asked him not to.

 

It was a legitimate accident, but Dean would be damned if he was going to apologize.

 

He was stubborn like that.

 

“…The first time, I suppose,” Castiel mused, his face scrunched up in what looked like disdain.

 

Judgey little fucker.

 

“Well, I may or may not have stolen a car,” Dean said facetiously, causing Castiel’s eyes to widen in shock.

 

“You stole a car?! Why? Were you stuck somewhere? Was someone hurt?” Castiel asked frantically.

 

“…You really are a sweet, innocent kid, aren’t ya?” Dean questioned, guilt suddenly crashing over him like a tidal wave.

 

Knitting his eyebrows together in confusion, Castiel pondered Dean’s question for a few seconds before realization seemed to hit him like a ton of bricks.

 

“You…stole the car…just because you wanted to?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

 

“Hey,” Dean laughed. “Don’t your people have a thing about leaving the judging up to the big man?”

 

“God alone, who gave the law, is the Judge. He alone has the power to save or to destroy. So what right do you have to judge your neighbor? James 4:12,” Castiel replied somberly. “I am sorry, Dean. I should not have passed judgment on you, especially when my soul is not free of sin.”

 

  
“Whoa, buddy. I was just messing with you. You have every right to judge me. I was a dumbass fifteen year old who got caught taking a joyride in a 1969 Chevy Camaro ZL1,” Dean explained, giving Castiel a reassuring smile to prove that he wasn’t actually upset.

 

“How long were you confined to a juvenile detention?” Castiel asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

 

“Uh, uh, uh, Cas,” Dean teased. “That’s not how this works. I believe you owe me a kiss before you get your next answer.”

 

Biting his bottom lip nervously, Castiel nodded his head, flinching ever so slightly when Dean leaned forward, placing his mouth inches away from the other boy’s.

 

After a few seconds of watching the preacher’s son squirm, because Dean was a sick fuck like that, he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips softly against Castiel’s.

 

The kiss was innocent to say the least, closed lipped, no tongue, and it lasted all of about five seconds before Castiel pulled away, turning his head to the side in embarrassment.

 

“You’re killin’ me, Cas,” Dean joked, his heart doing a summersault in his chest when Castiel dared to look at him, giving him an innocent little smile.

 

“How long were you incarcerated for after you stole the car?” Castiel asked again before absentmindedly licking his lips.

 

Yep, this kid was going to be the death of him.

 

“Thankfully, since it was my first real offense, the judge was lenient and only gave me four months. Which was seriously like getting away with murder considering it’s not uncommon for teenagers to be tried as adults for that sort of thing,” Dean admitted, running a hand through his short brown hair.

 

“…What is it like? Being incarcerated, I mean…is it as terrifying as it sounds?” Castiel wondered, giggling softly when Dean raised both his eyebrows at him. “My apologies, I am not used to being bribed in order to learn information about someone,” he added playfully.

 

“Did...you just display a sense of humor?” Dean asked incredulously, pretending to be utterly shocked.

 

“Are you going to kiss me anytime soon? Or shall I move on with my next question?” Castiel shot back, making a surprised noise when Dean cupped both his cheeks in his hands and pulled him into another kiss.

 

Their second kiss was longer, mainly because Dean’s hands were preventing the other boy from shying away, and this time Castiel actually kissed back, even if it was only for a brief moment. But there was still no tongue, and when Castiel made an attempt to separate himself from Dean, Dean immediately let him go.

 

“…Th-thank you,” Castiel stuttered, his chest heaving.

 

“Don’t thank me for that, Cas. Don’t ever thank someone for doing something that’s common fucking curtesy. If you make it clear that you don’t want to be touched, then everyone, myself included, should listen,” Dean told him sternly.

 

Sure, Dean didn’t mind pushing the limits when one of his partners was being shy but otherwise into his advances, like Castiel had been the previous day when they had gone to lunch. But today, Castiel had specifically asked him not to push his boundaries and Dean would be damned if he was going to ignore such an important request.

 

At the end of the day, it was all about respect. And if Dean didn’t respect Castiel, how in the Hell could he blame the kid for not wanting to give him his trust?

 

“…You are different from what I expected…” Castiel said suddenly, the words pouring from his mouth like water from a facet.

 

“Oh yeah? What’d you expect, Cas?” Dean inquired as he ran his hand through Castiel’s disheveled black hair.

 

“…I honestly do not know.” Castiel confessed. “…I just did not expect you to be so…charming. Especially knowing what a jerk you can be,” he added, causing Dean to let out a loud belly laugh.

 

“I can’t argue with you on that one. I can be a jerk, but I’m glad I’m not as big of a jerk as you thought,” Dean said. “You know, you’re different too…”

 

“How so?” Castiel asked, cocking his head to the side curiously.

 

“Well for one, I didn’t think you were capable of being funny,” Dean chuckled, earning a dirty look from Castiel.

 

“I can be quite humorous, Dean,” Castiel deadpanned.

 

“I’ll be the judge of that. Looks like I’ll have to keep track of how many times you make me laugh during the course of the week and let you know on Friday whether or not you’re actually funny,” Dean mused.

 

“Oh? So you have just decided that we are spending the rest of the week together?” Castiel asked, trying and failing to sound annoyed.

 

“If you don’t want to spend more time with me, than just say so, Cas,” Dean challenged, staring lustfully into Castiel’s bright blue eyes.

 

“…We should watch Episode VI…” Castiel mumbled, changing the subject as he turned his head away from Dean. “I have to be home soon…I have chores.”

 

“Lame, I was hoping you could spend the night,” Dean sighed.

 

Snapping his gaze back toward Dean, Castiel looked as though he had seen a ghost, trying several times to speak but ultimately failing to find the right words.

 

“…I…do not think that is a good idea…” he finally managed to whispered, shaking so hard that Dean’s bed was vibrating.

 

“Why Cas? You afraid that when the lights go off you won’t be able to hold back those “sinful” urges of yours? That you won’t be able to hide behind your bible?” Dean asked venomously, letting his jaded opinion on religion cloud his judgment.

 

“That was cruel, Dean…” Castiel spat, his blue eyes burning with contempt. “You are so quick to judge me and act like I am the one being unreasonable…But you obviously have no idea how difficult it is for me to be around you when I have…”

 

“Have what, Cas? What do you have?” Dean urged, refusing to back down.

 

“…Please do not make me say it…” Castiel begged.

 

“Just because you don’t say it, doesn’t mean it isn’t real,” Dean shot back.

 

“I have feelings for you, alright?!” Castiel shouted suddenly, hastily getting up from the bed in a frantic attempt to separate himself from Dean. “Which is completely immoral!…The mere sight of you fills my mind with lustful, deviant thoughts…”

 

“Jesus, Cas…” Dean sighed as he stood up from the mattress as well. “Being attracted to me doesn’t make you immoral,” he added, cautiously reaching out to touch Castiel’s shoulder but letting his hand fall to his side when the other boy flinched violently at his advance.

 

“I am not gay, Dean…I…I do not know how or why I feel the way I do about you, but I am not gay. You are just…confusing! And please, stop taking the Lord’s name in vain!” Castiel begged, letting out a ragged breath as he ran his hand through his hair.

 

“I’m sorry, honestly. It’s just habit…” Dean said calmly, holding up his hands in defeat. “…and if you say you aren’t gay, then who am I to tell you otherwise?”

 

“…I…do not want to go to Hell, Dean…” Castiel whispered, desperation blazing in his beautiful blue eyes.

 

“Trust me, sweetheart, out of the two of us? You aren’t the one with a first class ticket downstairs,” Dean teased as he plopped back down on his bed.

 

“Do not say that, Dean…God is ready and willing to forgive anyone who seeks his forgiveness,” Castiel said earnestly, perching on the edge of the mattress.

 

“That’s the problem, baby. I don’t want or feel like I need God’s forgiveness,” Dean replied, raising his eyebrows in surprise when Castiel cautiously reached over and took his hand.

 

“…Perhaps…I can change your mind? It is never too late for one of God’s children to repent,” Castiel explained timidly, giving Dean a warm smile.

 

 

Ah Hell. He was so fucking screwed.

 

 

“Maybe Cas…I don’t make any promises though,” Dean huffed as he pulled Castiel forward, silently urging him to reclaim his seat next to him on the mattress.

 

“You know, there is one thing you have working in your favor,” Castiel mused, crawling over to sit next to Dean.

 

“What’s that?” Dean asked halfheartedly as he grabbed the remote.

 

“Honesty,” Castiel stated simply, setting all of Dean’s nerve ending on fire when he timidly laced their fingers together.

 

Holy mother of the God Dean didn’t believe in, was this kid perplexing.

 

“Yeah, I’m a regular saint,” Dean scoffed as he pushed play to start the DVD.

 

“Absolutely not,” Castiel chuckled. “Not with the way you blaspheme.”

 

“Oh, he’s got jokes,” Dean teased, squeezing Castiel’s hand lightly.

 

“It is true. I am a regular comedian,” Castiel retorted before focusing his attention on the television screen.

 

Letting out a loud, overdramatic sigh, Dean just shook his head and remained silent.

 

Just great. This kid was actually going to make Dean like him.

 

Fan-fucking-tastic.

 

So much for getting laid and getting out.

 

“More like a regular fucking smartass,” Dean grumbled.

 

“Stop cursing, Dean,” Castiel chided, blowing his mind when he leaned over and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder.

 

“Keep dreamin’, Cas,” Dean shot back, smirking when he heard Castiel let out a frustrated huff.

 

Yep. Dean was **screwed**. Six ways from fucking Sunday.


	4. Truly I Tell You, If You Have Faith As Small As A Mustard Seed...Nothing Will Be Impossible For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Kharisma21 for proofreading for me! I appreciate you battling annoying husbands and best friends to make sure my work was grammatically correct! <3

Either Dean had lived up to his reputation as a smooth talker or he had just annoyed Castiel into submission.

 

Whatever the case, by Friday Dean had _FINALLY_ convinced the preacher’s son to spend the night at his house. Why the Hell shouldn’t he? The two of them had spent the whole week together, and minus the one day Castiel had chores, he stayed at the Winchesters until 10 or 11 each night.

 

Besides, Dean intentions were completely innocent…well innocent-ish. He just wanted to hangout with Castiel and watch movies and hey, if they accidently ended up touching each other’s dicks, oops!

 

And it wasn’t like convincing Castiel to spend the night didn’t have consequences. Which was why Dean was currently sitting in the Milton’s living room being thoroughly interrogated by not only the preacher, but his wife and Castiel’s two older sister’s Anna and Hael.

 

“Castiel has never stayed the night at another person’s house before, what if he cannot fall asleep and wants to come home?” Mrs. Milton asked, eyeing Dean suspiciously.

 

“If Castiel is uncomfortable, for any reason, I have no problem bringing him back home if he asks me to do so,” Dean replied calmly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

 

“And you will be at your house the entire night? It is not safe for two young boys to be out wondering the streets at night,” Anna chimed in.

 

Giving her a polite smile, Dean nodded his head in response. Truthfully, he wanted to tell the pretty redhead that Castiel and he had a better chance of drowning in a bathtub with no water than getting hurt in a small, boring town like Springfield but he refrained.

 

“Well, okay then. I think that about covers all of our concerns,” Mr. Milton said happily, after thirty, count them, thirty minutes of questioning. “Honestly Mr. Winchester, I am very glad that my son has made a friend. It is good for him to get out of the house. All he does is read and do chores,” the preacher confessed, giving Dean a sad look.

 

“Father!” Castiel scolded, appearing on the stairs with a large duffle bag draped over his shoulders.

 

Jesus Christ, was this kid planning on moving in?

 

Trying his best not to react outwardly, Dean mentally chastise his dick for giving an involuntary twitch when he saw that Castiel was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a blue short-sleeved shirt.

 

Honestly at that point, Dean was convinced that the preacher’s son could were a burlap sack and he’d think it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

 

“It’s no problem, Mr. Milton. I enjoy your son’s company,” Dean said, thankfully regaining his composure quickly.

 

Blushing furiously, Castiel made his way down the stairs to say his goodbyes to his family. And while he did so, Dean took that opportunity to get the hell out of dodge, slipping out the front door and into the driver’s seat of his dad’s 1967 Chevy impala which the old man had let him borrow that night to pick up his friend.

 

“Jesus! Took you long enough,” Dean chided when Castiel finally arrived at the car, tossing his stuff in the backseat before sitting down beside him. “You did explain to your parents that my house is up the fucking street, right? Not in Libya.”

 

“Dean….” Castiel said sternly, not bothering to continue when Dean rolled his eyes, signifying that he knew exactly why he was being reprimanded.

 

“Whatever. Ya hungry?” Dean asked as Castiel buckled his seatbelt.

 

“Famished,” Castiel replied.

 

“Ditto. Wanna go to IHOP?” Dean inquired, putting the car in drive and heading down the dirt road that led into town.

 

“…You want to go into town…On a Friday night?” Castiel asked, looking completely appalled.

 

“What’s a matter, Cas? You allergic to people?” Dean teased, earning a dirty look from the boy in the passenger’s seat.

 

“Deathly,” Castiel deadpanned.

 

“Oh c’mon Cas, go to dinner with me,” Dean pleaded, busting out his best set of puppy dog eyes.

 

“…Is your mother not making dinner?” Castiel questioned as he fidgeted nervously in his seat.

 

“Nah, she and Sammy went out for pizza and a movie,” Dean explained.

 

“What about Mr. Winchester?” Castiel asked, clearly trying to stall.

 

“The old man had an earlier dinner and hit the sack about an hour ago. He’s gotta to be up at ass o’clock in the morning for work tomorrow,” Dean told him.

 

“Your language, if possible, is even more atrocious than usual tonight,” Castiel grumbled.

 

“Yeah, well you’re being even more of a pain in my ass tonight than usual so I guess we’re even,” Dean retorted. “And we’re going to IHOP. I need some pancakes like, yesterday."

 

“…Dean, it is six p.m. Why would you want pancakes for dinner?” Castiel asked, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

 

“You’re fucking with me, right? You do know that it’s not a sin to eat breakfast foods after the sun goes down, don’t you?” Dean asked incredulously.

 

Jesus. Sometimes Dean wasn’t quite sure why he was so infatuated with this kid.

 

“Your vast knowledge of what is and is not sinful astounds me, Dean,” Castiel retorted sarcastically.

 

Ah, there it was. There was the reason Dean was so damn willing to jump through hoops for this kid. That snobby attitude of his. Dean was sick, he knew that, but he couldn’t get enough of Castiel’s rude comments or the way he thought he was better than everyone else. It shouldn’t have been hot, but apparently his dick missed that memo.

 

“You’re such a little shit,” Dean huffed as they passed a sign that read “Welcome to Springfield.”

 

“Yet, you continue to spend your time with me,” Castiel stated nonchalantly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

 

“What can I say, Cas? Apparently nerdy little book worms with superiority complexes get me hard,” Dean shot back, unable to stop himself from going for a low blow.

 

“Dean, that was highly inappropriate,” Castiel scolded and even in the dim light of the street lamps that lined the road, Dean could see that he was blushing.

 

Score!

 

“You know what’s also highly inappropriate?” Dean shot back. “You turning up your nose at pancakes just because it’s night time. Pancakes are practically a food group, Cas. They’re amazing and you should cherish them at all hours,” he teased.

 

“You are ridiculous,” Castiel giggled as Dean pulled into a parking spot in front of the restaurant.

 

“Yet, you continue to spend your time with me,” Dean mocked before getting out of the car.

 

Letting out a loud, frustrated huff, Castiel followed suit, the two of them entering the crowded restaurant to find that there was a thirty minute wait.

 

“Man, it must have sucked to grow up in a town where the most exciting thing to do on a Friday night is go to the International House of Pancakes,” Dean teased, sitting down next to Castiel on one of two the long benches at the front of the restaurant.

 

But before Castiel could respond, Dean heard a bone chilling laugh, looking over at the bench across from them to see a tall, slender boy with dirty blonde hair eyeing the preacher’s son coldly.

 

“I bet it didn’t bother bible boy here one bit,” the boy mused, receiving an elbow to the ribs from the petite blonde girl sitting next to him.

 

“Just ignore him, Castiel. Alastair is an even bigger asshole when he’s hungry,” the girl joked, giving Castiel a warm smile. “Who’s your friend?”

 

“This is Dean Winchester, he just moved to Springfield last week. Dean, this is Jo Harvelle,” Castiel mumbled, reluctantly introducing the two.

 

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Dean flirted, shooting Jo a toothy grin.

 

“Likewise, handsome,” she replied, biting her bottom lip as she leaned forward, her cleavage perfectly visible in the low cut blouse she was wearing.

 

“For fuck’s sake, Jo. Why don’t you just blow him now and get it over with? We’ve got at least fifteen more minutes before our table is ready,” came a low, bored voice from the end of the bench.

 

Looking to his right, Dean saw a short, dark haired girl with brown eyes who had an expression on her face that screamed “just shoot me.”

 

“I’m not opposed to that,” Dean teased, winking at Jo whose face lit up with a shit eating grin.

 

“Dean,” Castiel scolded suddenly, punching him in the arm.

 

And shit, he was deceptively strong for a little nerdy dude.

 

“What? Cas, buddy, let me enlighten you. Rule number fucking one: you never turn down getting your dick sucked,” Dean explained, making everyone laugh but Castiel.

 

“Oh c’mon bible boy, lighten up,” Alastair jeered as he stared holes in Castiel.

 

“You know I dislike it when you call me that, Alastair,” Castiel huffed, shifting closer to Dean as though he were trying to use him as a protective shield from Alastair’s steely gaze.

 

“That’s why I say it, bible boy. You’re way too easy to rile up. How could I resist?” Alastair asked, smiling at Castiel, the gesture slimy enough to make Dean’s stomach turn.

 

“Hey, he doesn’t like it when you call him that, so why don’t you knock it off?” Dean growled, causing Alastair to look at him curiously.

 

“Hmm, and who are you? Castiel’s new attack dog?” Alastair chuckled, earning another elbow to the ribs from Jo.

 

“Ugh, you’re all so petty and boring,” groaned the dark haired girl at the end of the bench.

 

“If you harbor so much disdain for us, Meg, then why are you here?” Jo asked, her words dripping with agitation.

 

“Good question blondie. Maybe I’ll ditch you two idiots and hangout with Castiel and his new body guard,” Meg mused as she got up from her seat before sauntering over to sit next to Castiel.

 

Letting out a surprised yelp, Castiel nearly broke his neck trying to get away from Meg when she placed her hand on his thigh.

 

“It’s okay, cutie. I promise, no matter what the holy book tells you, vaginas aren’t the root of all evil,” Meg cooed, and Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

 

“…I…know that. I do not believe Eve was solely responsible for the fall of humanity,” Castiel stuttered, so close to Dean that he was practically sitting on his lap.

 

“He’s so literal. It’s adorable,” Meg said, pinching Castiel’s cheek.

 

“Ain’t it though?” Dean taunted, laughing when Castiel’s face turned bright red and he gave him an “I hope you burn in the inner most circle of Hell” look.

 

“Well, I propose a compromise,” Jo interjected suddenly. “How about Meg has dinner with Castiel while Dean and I go somewhere quiet, and Alastair can just fuck off?”

 

“Bitch,” Alastair grumbled, folding his arms across his chest angrily.

 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Dean apologized, putting his arm around Castiel’s shoulders. “While I’d love to take you up on your offer, I’m not in the business of ditching my friends. Even if it’s with the promise of having those beautiful lips wrapped around my dick,” he teased, giving Jo a playful wink.

 

“Aw, you’re sweet,” Jo said, chuckling at the terrified look on Castiel’s face. “Don’t worry handsome, lucky for you this isn’t a one time offer,” she added sensually.

 

“Alastair,” the hostess called suddenly, holding three menus in her hand.

 

“Nice talking to you, sweetheart,” Dean purred as Jo and her friends got up from their seats.

 

“Back at ya. But maybe next time we can do a little less talking,” Jo replied, shooting Dean one last wink before she and the others disappeared into the restaurant.

 

And once they were gone, Castiel wasted little time roughly pushing Dean’s arm off of his shoulders, putting an overdramatic amount of distance between them on the bench.

 

“You like girls?” he asked heatedly.

 

“…Uh, yeah? Boobs are awesome,” Dean chuckled, confused as to why Castiel was so irate.

 

“…But you…I thought you…” Castiel stammered, his face red as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his neck.

 

“Spit it out, Cas,” Dean urged, raising both eyebrows at the other boy in anticipation.

 

“I thought you liked me…I mean, I thought you were attracted to me,” Castiel whispered, looking extremely paranoid as he scanned the restaurant lobby as if the anti-gay authorities were going to popped out and arrested him for acknowledging another man’s attraction to him.

 

“I am attracted to you, dude. You’re fucking hot,” Dean laughed, his heart fluttering when Castiel lowered his head in embarrassment.

 

Fuck this kid for being so damn cute.

 

“…I do not understand, Dean…Earlier you were speaking as if you wanted Jo to…” Castiel mumbled, his voice trailing off.

 

“Cas, have you ever heard of bisexuality?” Dean asked, reaching out to tilt Castiel’s head up by his chin so that he could see the other boy’s face.

 

“Yes,” Castiel replied curtly, wrinkling his nose as if he smelt something foul.

 

“Jesus, you’re so fucking judgey,” Dean laughed, shaking his head at the preacher’s son. “And whether you agree with it or not, I’m bisexual.”

 

“Dean, that is twice now that you have taken the Lord’s name in vain tonight and I am honestly starting to get angry,” Castiel rebuked.

 

Blowing out a long breath of air through his mouth, Dean raised up his hands in defeat.

 

“I’m sorry, Cas. I promise I’m not doing it on purpose. But I can’t correct a bad habit I’ve had for years in less than a week,” Dean sighed.

 

“…I know, Dean…I am sorry…I am just very…confused and equally as overwhelmed,” Castiel confessed, giving Dean an apologetic look.

 

“Hey, I’m really sorry for flirting with that chick in front of you…What can I say? I’m a horny bastard with no self-control,” Dean teased. “…Honestly though, I didn’t think it would bother you,” he explained, absentmindedly reaching out to take Castiel’s hand.

 

Flinching, Castiel quickly removed his hands from Dean’s reach, folding them neatly in his lap.

 

“…Well, it did,” he whispered, daring to look Dean in the eyes. “…A lot.”

 

Gah! Dean couldn’t win with this kid. Castiel had specifically asked him not to pursue him and now he was pissed off that Dean was exploring his options. And it was bullshit.

 

“You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Cas,” Dean said defiantly, making the preacher’s son blush deeply.

 

“…I am aware of that…But if you could please refrain from talking about your previous or future sexual encounters in my presence, I would truly appreciate it,” Castiel nearly begged and the sad look on his face made Dean’s heart ache.

 

“Okay, dude, fine. Just stop with the kicked puppy dog look,” Dean ordered, turning in his seat to face forward.

 

Fuck. There was no reason for him to feel bad for wanting that slutty chick to blow him. Dean was single, and Castiel had made it crystal fucking clear that nothing was going to happen between them. So why the Hell did he feel like such an asshole?

 

“…Thank you, by the way,” Castiel said abruptly, pulling Dean away from his thoughts.

 

“For what?” Dean asked, folding his arms across his chest and turning his head away from Castiel.

 

Yeah, he was pouting. So the fuck what?

 

“For standing up for me. Alastair has been giving me grief for as long as I can remember…It was very nice of you to tell him to stop,” Castiel whispered as he cautiously scooted closer to Dean.

 

“It was no big deal, Cas. Dude’s an asshole and I hate bullies,” Dean stated as a matter of fact with a shrug of his shoulders.

 

“It was a big deal to me,” Castiel explained, nearly causing Dean to jump out of his skin when he gently grabbed him by the chin and turned his head so that they were looking each other in the eyes.

 

“…In that case, you’re welcome,” Dean said huskily, not realizing that he had leaned forward until his lips were inches away from Castiel’s, so close he could feel the warmth of his breath on his skin.

 

“Dean,” Castiel whispered, and Dean wasn’t sure if the preacher’s son was giving him a warning or permission.

 

Oh well, until Castiel pushed him away or slapped him in the face, he was interpreting it as permission.

 

“Castiel,” Dean heard the hostess call out suddenly, the sound of her voice making Castiel jump violently.

 

Scrambling out of his seat, Castiel followed the hostess on shaky legs as she led him to a table in the far right hand corner of the restaurant, leaving Dean extremely annoyed and even more sexually frustrated on the bench in the lobby.

 

Jesus H. Christ on a popsicle stick, it was going to be a long night.

 

 

_**OoOoOoOoO** _

 

 

Shockingly enough, Dean survived dinner without his balls falling off. Not that it was for lack of trying, cause motherfucker, was Castiel trying to kill him.

 

And it didn’t help that when they got back to his house and changed into their pajamas, Castiel was suddenly extremely interested in Dean’s sexual experience. Which was just what he needed, to talk about sex with the kid he wanted to bend over and fuck senseless.

 

“…How many sexual partners have you had?” Castiel asked suddenly, causing Dean to choke on air.

 

They were both laying on his bed with the television off, talking about nothing in particular when the preacher’s son decided to bust out the real talk.

 

“You sure you wanna know?” Dean inquired, turning on his side to face the other boy.

 

Castiel was laying on his stomach, his arms wrapped around one of Dean’s pillows with his head cocked to the right so that he could see his friend.

 

He was wearing a white sleep shirt and grey sweat pants, his black hair even more out of control than usual and his gorgeous blue eyes seemed to be studying Dean, contemplating the answer to his question thoroughly.

 

And holy fuck if he wasn’t the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen.

 

Ah Hell, maybe Dean really should consider becoming religious. Because when Castiel was done with him, he was going to need Jesus.

 

“…Yes,” Castiel replied slowly, “I am sure.”

 

“Six total. Four girls, two boys,” Dean explained, hating the pained expression that washed over Castiel face upon hearing the information.

 

“Were they all…meaningful?” Castiel asked shyly, looking so damn adorable that Dean literally had to stop himself from awing.

 

It just wasn’t right. No one should have the ability to be that fucking cute.

 

“No, Cas,” Dean said truthfully. “One of them was a random hookup at a party and the rest were your standard hang and bang.”

 

“…Hang and…bang?” Castiel repeated thoughtfully, his eyes searching Dean’s for an answer.

 

Why was this happening to him? Why couldn’t he have just ditched Castiel and got his dick sucked by the hot chick?

 

“You know? Hang and bang. When two people hangout and have sex? It’s causal, no strings attached,” Dean explained, and for the first time in his life, he actually felt embarrassed talking about sex.

 

“…That sounds very…primal and…lonely,” Castiel mused, timidly reaching out to stoke Dean’s cheek with his thumb.

 

And how such an innocent action could get him so riled up was beyond Dean’s comprehension.

 

“Did you just call a hang and bang basic?” Dean laughed, trying to take his mind off the fact that he wanted nothing more than to kiss Castiel stupid at that very moment.

 

“…I am not sure what that means…but yes, I suppose it sounds very basic. There does not seem to be any passion involved or…love…Just two people fulfilling their needs out of necessity, not desire,” Castiel explained, his words going straight to Dean’s dick.

 

“You’re cute, Cas. But I hate to break it to ya, sex ain’t that magical. It’s about two people getting off. Love and passion usually don’t have anything to do with it,” Dean teased, regretting how condescending he sounded when Castiel sat up abruptly, anger burning like a wildfire in his pretty blue eyes.

 

“Do not patronize me, Dean. Just because I wish to partake in sexual intercourse that means something, that does not give you the right to treat me as though I am some naïve, stupid virgin. I am aware that sexual intercourse is not always meaningful…but when I finally give myself to someone, I want it to be. I want it to mean something,” Castiel said sternly, flinching when Dean sat up as well and gently cupped his cheeks in his hands.

 

“Hey, I’m sorry, okay? It was rude of me to mock your expectations when it comes to sex…I’m just a jaded asshole, Cas…You have to overlook me,” Dean sighed, sliding his hands down to rest them on either side of Castiel’s neck.

 

“You make it sound like you are ancient. How can a sixteen year old be jaded?” Castiel asked curiously as he wrapped his fingers around Dean’s forearms, running his hands over his bare skin like he was petting a skittish animal that he was afraid would recant from his touch at any moment.

 

“At the risk of sounding like an even bigger douche bag than I already do…I’m just not as sheltered as you, Cas. I’ve seen bad shit happen to good people and I’ve had my ass handed to me on more than one occasion for simply voicing my opinion. The world isn’t puppy dogs and rainbows, baby. It sucks. And people will lie, steal, and/or cheat in order to get what they want from you,” Dean huffed, gently stroking the vein in Castiel’s neck where his pulse was beating rapidly.

 

“…Dean…The Devil challenges everyone…Perhaps if you had someone to turn to in a time of need, you would be able to see the beauty and happiness in the world…” Castiel said timidly, giving Dean a look that was so determined, so full of hope that it nearly knocked the wind out of him.

 

“You’re something fucking else, Cas…” Dean chuckled, raising one of his hands to even further ruffle the other boy’s unruly hair.

 

“I have faith, Dean. And I want you to have it too,” Castiel whispered, making a surprised noise when Dean surged forward, pressing their lips together.

 

Kissing Castiel gently, Dean was downright ecstatic when he felt the other boy respond, his grip on Dean’s arms tightening in a desperate attempt to steady himself.

 

“I’ve got you, Cas…Just relax,” Dean mumbled against his lips.

 

Giving him a shaky nodded, Castiel let out a soft moan as Dean ran his tongue along his bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth.

 

Running his fingers through Castiel’s hair, Dean deepened the kiss, resting his right hand at the base of the other boy’s skull.

 

And hot damn if his blood didn’t run white hot in his veins when he felt Castiel massage his tongue against his, timidly exploring Dean’s mouth.

 

“Dean, wait…” Castiel panted, breaking the kiss when Dean trailed his free hand down his chest, his fingertips grazing his left nipple.

 

“…Sorry, Cas…I just...I want you so fucking bad…it’s just hard to control myself sometimes,” Dean said breathlessly as he sat back, taking his hands off Castiel.

 

 “You have no need to apologize…” Castiel reassured him softly. “…I just…it would be best if we did not go any further…”

 

“I don’t know about that, baby…but if you want to stop, I understand,” Dean replied, cautiously pulling Castiel back down onto the mattress so that they were lying beside each other once more. “…Can you at least tell me one thing though?” he asked, smirking when Castiel narrowed his eyes at him.

 

“What would you like to know?” Castiel inquired nervously.

 

“Do you enjoy kissing me?” Dean wondered, holding his breath as he awaited Castiel’s answer.

 

“…Dean…” Castiel mumbled, looking down at the mattress shyly.

 

“Please Cas? I just want to hear you say it…I hate feeling like I’m alone in this,” Dean confessed, reaching out to fiddle with the hem of Castiel’s shirt.

 

“…Y-yes…I enjoy kissing you…but at the same time it terrifies me and makes me sick to my stomach…” Castiel explained somberly, and Dean couldn’t help but let out a disappointed sigh.

 

“…You could have stopped at the ‘I enjoy kissing you’ part,” Dean taunted, causing the preacher’s son to blush.

 

“I am sorry, Dean…You are just always so honest with me. I wanted to return the courtesy,” Castiel said, looking extremely apologetic.

 

“Don’t sweat it, Cas. I’m just going to pretend you didn’t say that my kiss makes your stomach turn,” Dean laughed, the sound dying in his throat when he saw Castiel hang his head in shame.

 

“…I cannot help it…I am sorry,” Castiel apologized again.

 

“I was just kidding, Cas. Seriously, you said you liked kissing me. I’ll fucking take it,” Dean chuckled, shooting Castiel a reassuring smile.

 

Nodding his head, Castiel smiled back shyly before settling down against Dean’s pillow and pulling the blanket up to his shoulder.

 

“…Is it alright if we go to sleep?” Castiel asked timidly, looking up at Dean with those innocent baby blues.

 

“Of course,” Dean said without hesitation before reaching up to turn off the lamp next to his bed.

 

It was only ten and he wasn’t the least bit tired, but it seemed that despite the fact that they had only known each other for a week, Castiel had successfully managed turned Dean into the biggest fucking push over in record breaking time.

 

Holy Hell, did he have it bad.

 

No. That was fucking absurd! There was no way he was falling for such a mouthy, homophobic prick.

 

“Good night, Dean. Do not forget to say your prayers,” Castiel whispered, jarring Dean back to reality.

 

“…Alright Cas….But only for you,” Dean agreed reluctantly, his heart attempting to beat out of his chest when he felt Castiel slump forward, gently resting his head against Dean’s shoulder.

 

Motherfucker. Dean was fucking toast.


	5. The Road to Hell is Paved With Good Intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to the lovely Kharisma21 for being my beta! <3 (P.S. I think the last bit of dialogue in this chapter is offensive and I wrote it. O_o So please forgive me!)

Over the next two weeks, Dean and Castiel alternated between hangout spots, usually spending Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at the Winchesters’ and Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays at the Miltons’.

 

Sundays, however, much to Dean’s chagrin, were the one day Castiel could not be social because as Mr. Milton explained, “it was the day of rest.”

 

Whatever. Thankfully, Dean still had three more days before he had to worry about it.

 

And on that particular Thursday, a storm had moved in, confining the boys to Castiel’s bedroom where they lay on his bed, Castiel reading a book while Dean played Candy Crush on his phone and listen to the radio which the preacher’s son had reluctantly let him turn on.

 

It wasn’t anything exciting, and the two of them had been sitting in silence for the last hour and a half just doing their own thing but somehow, it wasn’t awkward.

 

The two of them, in less than three weeks, had fallen into a pattern, and truthfully, they didn’t have to be doing anything eventful to have a good time. Dean and Castiel just enjoyed each other’s company.

 

And if Dean was being completely honest with himself, that scared the hell out of him.

 

He had never felt so comfortable with another person before, apart from his family of course, and the fact that he truly enjoyed just lying around and doing nothing with Castiel was downright crazy to him.

 

Honestly, it was like Castiel and he were an old married couple, only minus any hope of having sex.

 

Like ever.

 

Seriously, it was torture! And the worst part? Castiel hadn’t even let Dean kiss him in the last two weeks. Two fucking weeks! It had been fourteen days of pure agony, of not being able to taste Castiel’s beautiful, tantalizing lips, and Dean was going fucking insane.

 

Which was why, after he failed to pass level who the fuck cared of Candy Crush, Dean tossed his phone to the side, focusing his attention on Castiel.

 

Oblivious to Dean’s gaze, the preacher’s son lay there motionless, completely engrossed in his book.

 

And even though it took a lot longer than Dean would have liked to admit, he eventually worked up enough courage to roll over onto his stomach, leaning forward to gently press his lips against the right side of Castiel’s neck.

 

“No,” Castiel chastised in a hushed tone, immediately pulling his attention away from the novel he was reading to give Dean a stern look. “…Not under my father’s roof. It is extremely disrespectful.”

 

“…What are you trying to say, Cas? That it’s somehow more immoral for us to make out in a house that belongs to a preacher than it is to do so at my house? And here I thought every sin was equal,” Dean said in an agitated tone, lying partially on Castiel who was on his stomach, the book he was reading resting on his pillow.

 

“Dean, keep your voice down, please,” Castiel begged, looking over his shoulder at the other boy.

 

“How the Hell do you manage to do that?” Dean inquired as he got up from the bed, Castiel following suit so that the two of them were standing in front of each other.

 

“Manage to do what?” Castiel asked, cocking his head to the side curiously.

 

“How do you manage to stand there and act so calm, like you aren’t going fucking crazy because of how bad you want me? Cause I know, Cas. I know how fucking much you want me, and I’m not the least bit ashamed to admit I want you more,” Dean confessed, successfully keeping his voice low, despite the fact that he was so frustrated he could scream.

 

“I do not want you,” Castiel whispered, his skin breaking out in goosebumps when Dean took a step forward, pressing their bodies together.

 

“You should really stop lying, Cas,” Dean teased, placing his hands on Castiel’s sides, his lips inches away from the other boy’s.

 

“…Dean…” Castiel said breathlessly just before Dean surged forward, kissing him fiercely.

 

He hadn’t meant to be so aggressive, but when Dean felt Castiel respond, he didn’t back down. And holy fuck if his toes didn’t curl with pleasure when he elicited a downright pornographic moan from Castiel by biting his bottom lip, tugging roughly at the sensitive skin as he rolled it between his teeth. 

 

“It’s…like I can’t…fucking breathe around you…Cas,” Dean moaned between hot, open mouth kisses. “…I want you…so fucking bad.”

 

“…Dean, please…” Castiel panted, threading his fingers through Dean’s short brown hair.

 

“What Cas? Tell me what you want, angel,” Dean urged, the pet name spilling out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

 

“...I…No…I cannot…We should not do this, Dean,” Castiel whispered, his breathing labored as he gently pushed Dean away.

 

“Please Cas,” Dean begged, closing the gap between them one more time as he pressed their foreheads together. “…I need you,” he said softly, reaching forward to take Castiel’s hand, sliding the boy’s palm over his erection which was visible through his jeans.

 

“Dean,” Castiel moaned, his body trembling violently.

 

“Just trust me, angel…I’ll take care of you,” Dean promised as he slipped his right hand inside Castiel’s sweat pants, wrapping his fingers around his swollen cock.

 

Letting out a loud, filthy moan, Castiel grabbed onto the tops of Dean’s shoulders, digging his nails into his skin as Dean began to stroke him slowly.

 

“F-faster, please,” Castiel whispered, moaning even louder when Dean picked up his pace.

 

“Fuck, Cas…Should have known you’d be vocal…” Dean taunted, loving every sound that came out of Castiel’s mouth but at the same time, utterly terrified that someone would hear them.

 

“…Dean…That feels…” Castiel groaned as he began to roll his hips, his eyes closed tightly.

 

“Tell me how it feels, baby,” Dean urged, running his free hand through Castiel’s untamed hair, using it as leverage to pull him into a sloppy, feverish kiss.

 

“…Incredible, Dean…It feels incredible,” Castiel moaned into his mouth.

 

And holy fuck if the sound of Castiel saying his name, his voice completely wrecked, didn’t make Dean ache from head to toe with need.

 

“You look so fucking good like this, Cas…You’re so damn beautiful,” Dean breathed out, his heart fluttering when Castiel turned his head away, blush spreading across his pale cheeks. “Hey, look at me, baby…Please? Wanna see that beautiful face when you cum,” he said, applying a little more pressure as he continued to stroke Castiel’s erection.

 

Timidly, Castiel complied with Dean’s request, turning his head so that they were looking into each other’s eyes.

 

“Dean,” Castiel groaned, his body going rigid as he came hard, making a mess all over Dean’s hand and his sweat pants.

 

“…It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,” Dean whispered, holding onto Castiel firmly when he slumped forward against him, the intensity of his orgasm throwing him off balance.

 

Slipping his hand out of Castiel’s sweat pants, Dean then wrapped both his arms around the blue eyed boy’s waist, feeling his chest rise and fall rapidly.

 

And for a few, short, wonderful minutes, Castiel stood there calmly, totally relaxed and content in Dean’s embrace.

 

However, when Dean absentmindedly placed a tender kiss to his forehead, the reality of what had just happened seemed to hit Castiel like a freight train and he hastily recoiled from Dean as if his touch had burned him.

 

“…That…was shameful…” Castiel gritted out, tears forming in his eyes. “How could I have let you do that? How could I have sinned like that before God?”

 

And if the sight of Castiel standing before him, looking extremely embarrassed and crying, wasn’t a Grade-A boner killer, Dean didn’t know what was.

 

“…Cas, baby…” Dean began but Castiel cut him off.

 

“Do not call me that,” he spat, flinching when Dean tried to comfort him.

 

“…I’m sorry you regret what just happened…” Dean said softly as he took a couple steps back, trying to give Castiel some much needed space. “But I’ll be damned if I’m going to apologize for wanting you or for making you feel good. There is nothing shameful or wrong about us being attracted to each other…nothing wrong with us liking each other.”

 

“Oh please Dean. Why is it that you insist on treating me like a fool? You do not like me, you just want to use my body…To lead me into sin so you can have your fun and move on,” Castiel nearly shouted as large, salty tears streamed down his cheeks.

 

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Cas!” Dean shot back, balling up his fists in anger. “You’re my friend…Hell, you’re probably the best friend I’ve ever had…”

 

It was true. Castiel was the only person who had ever seen all of Dean’s imperfections and flaws and had still chosen to stick around. From the very beginning, they had gotten under each other’s skin and laid it all on the line, neither boy backing down when the other revealed a broken or damaged part of himself.

 

“…I do not feel like your friend…” Castiel whispered as he sat down on his bed, pulling his knees up to his chest to curl up in a little ball. “…I feel like your plaything…I have never once been tempted to rebel against God…to question my beliefs…not until I met you, Dean Winchester. And the way you make me feel…the immoral thoughts you make me think….It makes me sick.”

 

“…You’re friggin’ unbelievable,” Dean muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

 

“What did you just say?” Castiel asked incredulously, staring up at Dean with contempt.

 

“I said you’re unbelievable, Castiel,” Dean repeated angrily. “You can sit there and pretend that you’re pissed at me all you want, but it’s not me you’re upset with, not really. It’s you. You’re mad at yourself, and you’re taking it out on me. I’ve never given you any reason to doubt my loyalty to you. And I know deep down inside, you don’t think for a second that I would fuck you and leave you. You’re just so far in denial about your sexuality and so angry that it contradicts what your heavenly Father says that you are lashing out and trying to push me away. Well guess what, baby? I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“…I am not gay, Dean,” Castiel said through gritted teeth, his nostrils flaring.

 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Cas,” Dean shot back, looking down at the preacher’s son defiantly.

 

Remaining silent, Castiel glared back at Dean for what seemed like an eternity before suddenly getting up from his bed and marching over to his dresser to retrieve a fresh pair of boxers and sweat pants.

 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he stated irritably as he made his way to the door.

 

“Do you want me to be gone by the time you’re done?” Dean asked, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt.

 

With his hand on the doorknob, Castiel stood with his back toward Dean, seemingly contemplating his answer.

 

“…No…” he finally whispered, and even though Dean couldn’t see his face, he knew he was crying again.

 

“Good,” Dean replied as walked forward, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist. “Cause I’m not going anywhere, Cas. You hear me?” he asked, his heart doing backflips in his chest when Castiel leaned against him, allowing Dean to pepper kisses down the side of his neck.

 

“…I hear you, Dean…” Castiel said. “…I just do not know why you are so adamant about sticking around,” he confessed.

 

“Me either,” Dean lied as he slowly released Castiel.

 

Of course the preacher’s son had no idea, but Dean knew. He knew exactly why he was going to stay…why he wanted to stay. It was because he had it bad for Castiel. Holy fucking Hell, did he have it bad.

 

“…I am happy…that you are going to stay…Even though I cannot give you what you want,” Castiel admitted, his hand still tightly gripping the doorknob.

 

“I know, Cas. And whether you like it or not, I’m not giving up. One of these days, we’re both going to be able to give the other what he wants. Trust me,” Dean said confidently.

 

Shaking his head, Castiel let out a sad sigh.

 

“…Forgive me? What I said earlier was…” Castiel mumbled, his words dying in his throat when Dean suddenly spun him around before kissing him like a man possessed.

 

“I know you didn’t mean it, Cas,” Dean panted, tangling his fingers in the other boy’s hair. “You say rude, hurtful shit all the time…I’m pretty sure it’s a defense mechanism,” he mused, chuckling when Castiel surprisingly pulled him into another kiss.

 

“Pray tell, Dr. Winchester, where did you obtain your medical degree from?” Castiel asked sarcastically, and hot damn if his sassy little remark didn’t go straight to Dean’s dick which was still half hard at that point.

 

“Smartass,” Dean grumbled, eyeing Castiel lustfully as the preacher’s son pushed him away coyly.

 

“Do not…masturbate on my bed,” Castiel ordered, his eyes trailing down Dean’s body to settle on his crotch. 

 

“Would you prefer if I jerked off on your floor?” Dean asked sarcastically, earning a frustrated huff from Castiel before he stormed off toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

It was a gross understatement to say that Dean and Castiel were in the middle of a messed up situation.

 

Seriously, if Dean had half a fucking brain, he would have made a break for it while the preacher’s son was in the shower.

 

Yet, it seemed that when it came to Castiel, Dean was a glutton for punishment.

 

Shaking his head, Dean ranked a hand over his face wearily as he plopped down on Castiel’s bed.

 

He wasn’t going anywhere, he knew that and Castiel knew that, so why try to fight it? Whatever was going on between he and the preacher’s son, Dean was in it for the long haul, despite his better judgment.

 

“Please forgive me Father,” Dean chuckled aloud, undoing the button on his jeans before slipping his hand into his pants. “For I have sinned, and have no intention of stopping,” he finished in a playful tone as he began to stroke his cock, thinking of Castiel and the way he had looked when Dean had made him cum, the entire time he was jerking off.


	6. Jealousy is a Powerful Force

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kharisma21 is the best beta ever! Just thought y'all should know. ;D

Over the course of the following week, Dean and Castiel’s relationship was strained to say the least. 

Granted, it was all due to the fact that Castiel could barely look at Dean without becoming irate or busting out into tears, but still, Dean didn’t help the situation by mocking the preacher’s son every chance he got.

He was being an asshole, he knew that, but he just couldn’t help it. Castiel might have been ashamed of what had happened between the two of them, but Dean wasn’t. 

And as a result of his bitterness toward Castiel’s regret, Dean may or may not have told him that if he was so damn upset about what they had done, he should just put on his big boy pants and go confess his sins. Which of course pissed Castiel off even more, considering the only man available for that particular job was his father. 

However, regardless of how mad they were at each other, Dean and Castiel continued to spend their time together, switching back and forth from the Winchesters’ to the Miltons’.

But by the time Wednesday rolled around, Dean was at the end of his rope. And it wasn’t just because Castiel was being difficult. Sure, that was a small portion of his dilemma but what Dean was really freaking out about was the fact that he needed to do something other than sit around the house all day. 

Not that he didn’t love hanging out with Castiel, because even though he was being infuriating, it was pathetically the highlight of Dean’s day. It was just that Dean needed a change of scenery, to stretch his legs. Hell, when he had lived in California and then Texas, he had gone outside every damn day. 

And if he was being honest with himself, the act of going outside shouldn’t have been an issue. Dean should have just been able to say “Hey, Cas, let’s go take a walk,” and the preacher’s son should have happily agreed. But no! Castiel, being the anti-social, cave-dweller that he was, made Dean outright beg him to go to the park. 

Whatever. Thankfully, Dean was just as stubborn as Castiel and after a twenty minute phone call consisting of an odd combination of sarcasm and smooth talking, Castiel agreed to meet Dean at the park that was located halfway between the Winchester and Milton residences. 

Hanging up the phone triumphantly, Dean got dressed as fast as he could, putting on a pair of old jeans and a red, long sleeve flannel shirt to combat the stormy weather. And once he was done, he sauntered out of his room and down the hall to Sam’s, knocking loudly before popping his head in. 

“Yo, Sammy, wanna go to the park with Cas and me?” Dean asked as Sam paused the video game he was playing to look at his older brother. 

“Depends, you gonna be all touchy feely with your boyfriend? I’m not in the mood to watch you two fondle each other,” Sammy grumbled. 

“Shut up, bitch. Cas isn’t like that. He is an enemy of PDA…honestly, he’s an enemy of any sort of display of affection,” Dean sighed. 

“He totally shut you down, didn’t he? Ya jerk,” Sam laughed as he got up from his spot on the floor. 

“More like Jesus shut me down, but I don’t want to talk about it,” Dean said in an agitated tone. “You coming with me to the park or not?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m fucking bored,” Sam admitted, following Dean down the stairs and out the front door. 

“Shit. Mom’s gonna kill me for not making you wear a jacket,” Dean huffed as the wind swirled around them, narrowing his eyes at the sleeveless white shirt his little brother was sporting. 

“Don’t worry, dude, I’m not a pussy like you,” Sam taunted, flexing his tanned, muscular arms. 

He might have only been thirteen, but the kid was ripped. Seriously, how Dean could have been cursed to have a younger brother who was a gym rat was beyond him. 

“Fuck off. I’m still your big brother and you know I can whoop your ass,” Dean retorted, elbowing Sam in the gut. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Sam replied lamely as the continued to walk down the street, reaching their destination a few minutes later. 

And much to his surprise, when they got close to the large stretch of land that served as the town’s park, Dean noticed that there was a group of boys playing football, despite the storm clouds looming ominously above their heads. 

“Hey, Winchester, right?” someone yelled suddenly, and when Dean turned his head he realized that someone was Alastair. 

“It’s Dean…good to see ya again, man,” Dean said politely when both he and his brother were standing in front of Alastair. “This is my brother Sammy,” he added, reaching up to ruffle Sam’s shaggy brown hair. 

“Hey, I’m Alastair,” the boy stated, reaching out to shake Sam’s hand. “And this is Benny, Garth, Gadreel, Azazel, Bartholomew, Zachariah, and Christian.” 

Holy mother lode of weird names, Batman!

“Nice to meet you all,” Sam said cheerfully as Dean nodded in agreement. 

“So, you pretty boys play football?” Bartholomew asked out of the blue, giving the Winchesters a skeptical look. 

“Sure do, Bart,” Dean replied in a sarcastic tone, making the other boy scowl. “Sammy here is a badass TE and I’m not half bad at quarterback.” 

“He’s amazing at quarterback,” Sam interjected, beaming with pride. “He was ranked number one in the state when we lived in New York.” 

“Aw, well ain’t that cute,” Azazel jeered. “Little brother talking up his hero.” 

Narrowing his eyes, Dean opened his mouth to tell Azazel to go gargle with lye but Sam cut him off. 

“It ain’t bragging if it’s true. If you don’t believe me, let’s play so you can see for yourself,” Sam challenged. 

“Damn, and on that note, I’m with the brothers,” Benny chuckled, revealing the thickest Cajun accent Dean had ever heard. 

“Me too!” Garth chimed in along with Gadreel. 

“Well, that settles it. The Winchesters, Benny, Garth, and Gadreel on one side of the ball and me, Azazel, Bartholomew, Zachariah, and Christian on the other. Whattaya say, QB? You game?” Alastair asked Dean, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. 

Hesitating for a moment, Dean scanned the park in search of Castiel, the preacher’s son nowhere to be found. 

Ah, screw it. He could always just play until Cas got there and then they could hangout. It was no big deal. 

“Hell yeah,” Dean replied, high fiving his little brother. 

“First one to three touchdowns wins, your ball QB,” Alastair taunted as Christian roughly threw the football at Dean. 

“Alright, huddle up,” Dean shouted, giving Christian the dirtiest look he could muster before his teammates circled around him. “Benny, I need you to block for me. Christian seems to have a chip on his shoulder and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the one to come at me full force. I’m throwing the ball to Sammy; he’ll get open and get the TD. Any questions?”

“Jesus, you really are an All-American pretty boy quarterback, ain’t ya?” Garth asked, a playful smile on his face. 

“We can flirt later, handsome, right now I’ve got a play to excuse,” Dean joked, making everyone in the huddle laugh before he called break. 

And once they had lined up on the field, Gadreel as Dean’s center, he gave the signal for the ball to be snapped and Christian, like he had suspected, launched himself at Dean with malice in his eyes. 

Truthfully, Dean thought he was going to get sacked first freaking play like a chump. However, lucky for him, Benny intervened at the last minute, taking the brunt of Christian’s attack so that Dean could launch the football down the field where Sam was standing in the makeshift end zone wide open. 

“That’s my boy!” Dean yelled when Sam spiked the football, shoving Bartholomew in the chest when he got in the younger boy’s face. 

“That’s some arm ya got there, brother,” Benny said happily as Dean helped him up from the ground. 

“Thanks, man. And I appreciate you saving my ass,” Dean laughed, dusting the other boy off. 

“No problem. Ass like yours deserves savin’,” Benny replied huskily, and unlike Garth, Dean knew he was being serious. 

“Right? You could bounce a quarter off this thing,” Dean flirted, turning his ass toward Benny whose eyes trailed down his body hungrily. 

But before Benny could say anything else, the sound of yelling caught both of their attention. 

“Garth was holding!” Zachariah whined, Sam positioned between he and the boy he was accusing of a penalty. 

“Don’t be such a crybaby, Zach,” Dean teased when Benny and he had made their way over to the other boys. “Sammy got past you fair and square.” 

“What the hell is he doing here?” Christian asked suddenly, preventing the brawl that was about to ensue between Dean and Zachariah. 

Turning his head, Dean saw that Castiel was sitting on a bench by the swing set, his knees pulled up to his chest as he eyed the boys curiously. 

“He’s my friend, asshat. I invited him here,” Dean growled before heading over to Castiel. 

“…I see you’ve made some new friends,” Castiel said curtly when Dean was finally standing in front of him. 

“No need to be jealous, baby. You’re still my favorite,” Dean retorted, causing Castiel to blush furiously. 

“Oh really? And is that why you begged me to meet you at the park? So you could hangout with them instead?” Castiel asked, and it was only then that Dean realized the preacher’s son was actually jealous. 

“…Cas, I’m seriously getting fed up with this ‘I don’t really want you but no one else can have you' bullshit. Pick an emotion. If you want my undivided attention, it’s all fucking yours. If not, then stop being such a little bitch,” Dean growled, both boys glaring at each other intently. 

“Dude! C’mon,” came Sam’s voice from behind Dean. “For the love of God, you can play grab ass with the preacher’s son later, I’m trying to win a football game here,” he huffed, their father’s must win attitude taking him over. 

“Nice to know you’ve taught your younger brother to be blasphemous as well,” Castiel spat, and for a split second Dean seriously contemplated kicking him in the balls. 

Unfortunately, however, his plan was foiled when a loud clap of thunder rumbled above their heads just before it started to pour. 

“We’ll pick up our game tomorrow! See you punks later!” Alastair yelled, the other boys scattering like rats deserting a ship. 

“Winchester!” Benny yelled suddenly, capturing Dean’s attention. “Get that cute little ass of yours home!” he ordered, a huge grin on his face. 

“Yes sir!” Dean laughed, watching as Benny made a mad dash toward his house, his clothes already soaked with rain water. 

“C’mon jerk, let’s get outta here before we have to swim home,” Sam said, pulling Dean back to the situation at hand. 

“…Goodbye Sam, I hope you have a good day,” Castiel told the younger Winchester as he got up from the bench, his messy black hair sopping wet. 

“Cas, just come home with us,” Dean suggested, gently grabbing him by the arm so he couldn’t make a break for it. “It’s closer and you need to get warm,” he added, noticing that Castiel was trembling. 

Who would have thought that a muggy summer’s day could result in a freezing cold torrential downpour. 

Fucking Louisiana. 

Letting out an agitated huff, Castiel allowed Dean to lead him out of the park and over to the Winchesters’ house where Sam wasted little time ditching the two of them in favor of a hot shower. 

“Here dude,” Dean said once Castiel and he had reached his room, handing the other boy one of the two towels he had swiped from the hall closet. 

“Thank you,” Castiel mumbled, taking the towel from Dean before drying his hair, making it look as though he had licked a light socket. 

“You wanna borrow some of my clothes?” Dean asked, already in the process of grabbing two sets of boxers and sweat pants from his drawer. 

“…Yes, thank you,” Castiel replied, taking the clothing Dean handed him. 

And once they were securely in Castiel’s hands, Dean turned to face the opposite wall and began to pull off his wet shirt. Using the towel to dry himself off, he got dressed quickly, although he didn’t bother to put on a shirt. 

Shit. He forgot to offer Castiel a shirt. 

“Sorry, man, I didn’t even think to ask…You want one of my long sleeve shirts? Since you’re so cold,” Dean inquired, turning back around to see that Castiel was in the same spot, water dripping off him as he clutched the dry clothes in his hands. “Cas? What the…” he asked, Dean’s heart nearly stopping when Castiel tossed the clothes aside and marched across the room to press their lips together. 

At first, Dean didn’t know what to do, but when Castiel wrapped his arms around his neck and deepened their kiss, it was like something just clicked and he immediately responded with everything he had. 

“…Cas…Don’t get me wrong, cause that was fucking incredible, but this hot and cold shit is seriously starting to make my head spin,” Dean mumbled before nipping at Castiel’s bottom lip. 

“I...I am sorry, Dean…I do not know what came over me,” Castiel apologized, taking a couple steps back from him. “I think there is something wrong with me…” he confessed, looking absolutely terrified. 

“Whattaya mean, Cas?” Dean asked in a confused tone, cocking his head to the side. 

“…I just…” Castiel stuttered, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. “…Do you like Benny?” he inquired all of a sudden, catching Dean off guard. 

“…Um, yeah? He seems nice…I don’t really know him though, we just met today,” Dean explained, standing there completely dumbfounded. 

“You were flirting with him,” Castiel huffed. 

“…I flirt with everyone, dude,” Dean chuckled, earning a dirty look from Castiel. 

“Yes, I am aware. And I thoroughly dislike it,” Castiel retorted. 

“Yeah? Well, I _thoroughly_ dislike the fact that you’ve been pissed at me for the last week and now all of a sudden you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend. And just so you know, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you for feeling angry that the guy you like was being hit on by another dude,” Dean nearly shouted, unable to control his temper any longer. 

“… I have not been upset with you,” Castiel argued, folding his arms across his chest. 

“Jealousy and lying? Aren’t those two of your homeboy’s biggest no nos?” Dean asked sarcastically. 

“I was not upset with you, Dean! I was mad at myself!” Castiel yelled, his face turning dark red. “Yes, initially I was mad at you but the more I think about it, the more I realize I am the one to blame. I let you touch me…I did not tell you to stop…And I am furious that I not only allowed myself to sin, but because I enjoyed it.” 

“Jesus, Cas, of course you enjoyed it! Getting off is awesome. But seriously, dude, it’s been a fucking week! Did you ask God for forgiveness?” Dean inquired, receiving a cold, defiant look from Castiel. 

“I do not want to talk about this,” Castiel said through gritted teeth. 

“Did you ask to be forgiven, Castiel,” Dean repeated, refusing to back down. 

Letting out a frustrated huff, the preacher’s son just shook his head wearily in response, staring at Dean with nothing but rage.

“…Yes,” Castiel finally whispered, after the longest, most awkward pause in the history of long, awkward pauses. 

“And do you believe He granted you forgiveness?” Dean asked, stepping forward to cup both of Castiel’s cheeks in his hands. 

“…Yes,” Castiel said with a little bit more confidence. 

“Well, if God can forgive you for something He deems a sin, then why is it so hard for you to forgive yourself?” Dean questioned, wiping away a tear that had just started to roll down Castiel’s cheek. 

“…You know,” Castiel huffed, looking up at Dean as if he were an enigma wrapped inside an enigma. “For a person who has so little use for God, you seem to understand Him quite well,” he mused, allowing Dean to press their foreheads together. 

“What kind of hypocritical jackass would I be if I claimed to dislike something I knew nothing about? Believe it or not Cas, I’m very well educated when it comes to religion. It’s just not for me,” Dean chuckled before giving Castiel a quick but tender kiss. 

“…You are infuriating and confusing, Dean Winchester. And yet, you fascinate me,” Castiel admitted, sounding extremely annoyed. 

“Back at ya, baby,” Dean retorted as he released the other boy. 

“I am sorry I have been so difficult…” Castiel apologized but was cut off by Dean raising up his hand dismissively. 

“We were both being royal jackasses, Cas. I just really wish we could forgive each other and move on,” Dean nearly begged. 

“I would like that, Dean,” Castiel replied, giving the other boy a bright smile. 

“Great! Then it’s settled, we’re golden,” Dean stated as he ruffled Castiel’s damp hair. 

“…I…should probably change now,” Castiel mumbled, looking at Dean expectantly. 

“What? You get to ogle my ass but I have to leave the room when you change? I’ve hand my hand on your dick, dude,” Dean teased, smirking as blush spread down Castiel’s face to his neck. 

“I might have forgiven you and myself for what happened, Dean…But I do not think joking about the incident is appropriate,” Castiel huffed. 

“Too soon?” Dean joked, almost fainting when Castiel actually laughed. 

“Infinity,” Castiel shot back. 

“Gah, remind me why we’re best friends again?” Dean teased as he made his way to the door. 

“…For me, it is because you are kind, when you are not being ornery of course, and patience…not to mention, you are honest to a fault…You are the only person who has ever tried to understand me and my beliefs, and for that, I am very thankful,” Castiel replied, obviously not realizing that Dean’s question was rhetorical. 

“C’mon Cas…no chick flick moments!” Dean griped, feeling the tips of his ears heating up with blush. 

Seriously, he could deal with the random fits of anger and fighting about nothing in particular, but Dean was not about to bust out the touchy feely shit. And he refused to admit that, despite his best efforts to fight it, he felt the same way about Castiel. 

“It is the truth, Dean,” Castiel said with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“…Yeah, yeah, I like you too,” Dean huffed, receiving an affectionate smile from the preacher’s son for his trouble. 

“Dean, can I ask you a question?” Castiel asked suddenly, thankfully changing the subject so Dean didn’t have to. “…It is a bit much…and I honestly have no right to ask it but I am going to anyway…if you let me,” he stammered, looking down at the floor. 

“Shoot, Cas,” Dean urged as he leaned back against his door so that he was facing the other boy. 

“Will you please…not pursue Benny?” Castiel wondered, his body visibly shaking. 

“What are you asking for, dude? For me to consider myself unavailable?” Dean inquired, his eyes wide with shock. 

“…Y-yes…I do not want you with anyone else…” Castiel admitted as he fiddled nervously with the hem of his shirt. 

“But you don’t want to be with me, either,” Dean stated as a matter of fact, causing Castiel to look up at him incredulously. 

“I…I do not know what I want…I just know that I cannot stand the thought of you being affectionate with another person the way…you are with me,” Castiel blurted out.

“…I can’t…If I wait for you and get my hopes up about us…It will seriously crush me if you decide sometime down the line that you can’t commit,” Dean confessed, mentally kicking himself for being such a pussy. 

“I know…I just…Please forgive me, I am aware that I am not making things easy. But I feel so conflicted, Dean,” Castiel sighed, a weary expression on his face. 

Honestly, Dean could tell that Castiel was struggling, that the guilt and confusion he felt about having feelings for Dean was eating him alive. 

“…Damn it, Cas…” Dean breathed out, knowing without a doubt he was about to make a terrible decision. “Okay, I will consider myself unavailable for the foreseeable future…but there has to be a time limit, baby…I can’t wait for you forever, and that’s not an ultimatum or a threat, and I promise, I’m not trying to be cruel. It’s just what’s best for me in the long run.”

“I completely understand,” Castiel said enthusiastically, his face lit up with joy. “…And I will try my best to figure out what I want in a timely manner. I just…I have to pray about it…” he confessed timidly. 

“Do what you think is best, Cas. I just want you to be comfortable with me…To let me have all of you, not just what’s on the surface,” Dean told him, looking at Castiel longingly. 

“…I will try, Dean…I…I think I want that too,” Castiel admitted, his hands trembling. 

Smiling, Dean gave Castiel a quick nod before turning around to open his door. 

“Get changed Cas. I’ll go make us some hot chocolate while I fantasize about you being naked in my room,” Dean teased, shooting Castiel a playful wink over his shoulder. 

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel scolded halfheartedly, and Dean could tell that he was trying with all his might not to laugh.


	7. With Faith Comes Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my beta! Love you, Jenn! (Sorry this took forever guys! Writer's block is a bitch. Lol Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy the chapter!)

Up until the day he met Castiel Milton, Dean had never realized how much of an impatient bastard he was.

 

 

It had only been two days since he and the preacher’s son had discussed the possibility of entering an intimate relationship with each other that involved being more than just friends, and already Dean wanted Castiel’s answer. But most of all, he _wanted_ Castiel.

 

He was being unreasonable, Dean knew that, but he just couldn’t help it.

 

And that was why, when Castiel came over that Friday to hangout, Dean was _not_ on his best behavior and he couldn’t be bothered to keep his impulses under control.

 

“Dean,” Castiel scolded, pressing his palms flat against the other boy’s chest to push him away when Dean attempted to kiss him.

 

They were sitting on Dean’s bed playing a video game when Castiel had become incredibly flustered due to the fact that he was losing terribly. And his cute little pouty face had made Dean want to do nothing more than kiss him senseless.

 

“Please Cas? You haven’t let me kiss you in **forever** ,” Dean whined, running his fingertips up the length of Castiel’s left thigh.

 

“…We kissed two days ago,” Castiel stated in a matter of fact tone, refusing to remove his hands from Dean’s chest.

 

“My point exactly!” Dean complained. “If you were my boyfriend, I’d make it a point to kiss you excessively, every damn day.”

 

“…You would?” Castiel asked timidly, blush spreading across his cheeks.

 

“Of course I would, Cas,” Dean replied without hesitation, surging forward when Castiel slowly let his hands fall to his sides, giving the other boy an opportunity to kiss him with everything he had.

 

“Dean…I am scared…” Castiel panted, pressing his forehead against Dean’s as the green eyed boy ran his fingers though his disheveled hair.

 

“I know, baby,” Dean sighed. “…but you trust me, right?” he asked, looking into Castiel’s bright blue eyes.

 

“…Yes,” Castiel whispered, “…I trust you, Dean.”

 

Smiling, Dean pulled back from Castiel, reaching up to cup the other boy’s cheek in his hand.

 

“I want to try something, Cas, will you let me?” Dean inquired, hoping with all his might that Castiel wouldn’t shut him down.

 

Taking a moment to contemplate his answer, Castiel let out a shaky breath before meeting Dean’s eyes and nodding his head yes.

 

“…O-okay, Dean…” the preacher’s son stuttered, his body visibly trembling.

 

“Great,” Dean said happily before scooting over to his wall so that his back was against it.

 

And once he was settled, Dean opened his legs to make a space for Castiel. “Sit right here,” he ordered softly, receiving a hesitant look from the other boy in return.

 

However, instead of refusing to do so, like Dean was expecting, Castiel slowly moved forward, positioning himself between Dean’s legs, his back resting against the green eyed boy’s chest.

 

“Dean…” Castiel whispered, his body tensing when Dean wrapped his arms around his waist.

 

“Just take a deep breath, Cas,” Dean instructed calmly as he nuzzled against the other boy. “If you trust me then you know you’re safe. You can relax,” he cooed, relief washing over him when he felt Castiel’s body loosen up.

 

“…N-now what?” Castiel wondered, hesitantly placing his hands on the tops of Dean’s thighs, his touch so light the green eyed boy could barely feel it.

 

“Now I want you to tell me why you like me,” Dean explained, receiving a confused sideways glance from Castiel. “C’mon Cas, I wanna know,” he urged as he lifted his hands up to Castiel’s shoulders, gently massaging his tense muscles.

 

“…Well, y-you are…beautiful…” Castiel admitted and even though Dean couldn’t see his face, he knew the preacher’s son was blushing.

 

“Thank you, baby. You’re downright gorgeous yourself…but I meant why do you like me apart from the physical aspect?” Dean asked as he worked a knot out of Castiel’s right shoulder, a jolt of pleasure streaking across his body when he heard the other boy let out a soft little moan.

 

“…I…like you…because you are a good person…You are not only beautiful on the outside but inside as well,” Castiel breathed out, clearly turning to putty under Dean’s touch.

 

“Do you value our friendship and the connection we have? Both mentally and physically?” Dean wondered as he absentmindedly leaned down to kiss Castiel’s neck.

 

“…I…I do,” Castiel replied as he wiggled restlessly between Dean’s legs, making it damn near impossible for the green eyed boy to hide his growing erection.

 

“Do you believe that what you feel for me is something you could easily have with another person?” Dean asked, causing Castiel to shake his head.

 

“…N-no…I have never felt this way about another person before and I think it would be difficult for me to replicate the affection I feel for you with someone else…” Castiel mused.

 

“And do you think God would truly forsake you for wanting to take advantage of something so rare and pure, something that will bring you happiness?” Dean mumbled against Castiel’s skin, sucking playfully at the place on his neck where his pulse was pounding rapidly.

 

Remaining silent, apart from little noise of pleasure that periodically escaped his lips, Castiel’s grip on Dean’s legs tightened, his erection strained against the pair of sweatpants he had borrowed from his best friend.

 

“Answer me, Castiel,” Dean ordered, taking note of the goosebumps that spread across the other boy’s skin when he spoke.

 

“…No…” Castiel whispered, letting out a loud gasp when Dean lightly bit down on his neck. “…Dean, wait…” he said nervously as he made a move to separate himself from the other boy.

 

“Shh, stay still, baby,” Dean purred, his arms securely wrapped around Castiel, holding him steady. “Why’d you freak out just then?”

 

“…You…” Castiel stuttered, visibly ashamed of something although Dean had no idea what. “…You bit my neck…and…the feeling was not unpleasant…What, what if I am sexually deranged? …I should not like it when you bite me…”

 

“Cas,” Dean chuckled softly as he ran his hands down the other boy’s chest. “There’s a big difference between deranged and kinky, sweetheart. And from what I can tell you are definitely just the latter…mildly at that.”

 

“…What do you mean ‘ _mildly_ ’?” Castiel dared to asked, his face and neck practically scarlet from how hard he was blushing.

 

Cringing slightly, Dean opted not to tell the preacher’s son that he meant _mildly_ compared to himself. Castiel was nowhere near ready to hear about his kinks and Dean certainly wasn’t about to say the word _bondage_ to his skittish best friend.

 

No, that would surely do no good except to earn him an exorcism from Castiel and that was why Dean felt the need to take the easier route.

 

“Well, if what I’ve picked up on so far is right, you like biting and you seemed to really enjoy it when I told you what to do,” Dean pointed out. “Which is hot as hell, by the way. Fuck…just thinking about you being submissive in the sack makes my toes curl,” he added, laughing when Castiel shot him dirty look over his shoulder.

 

“Dean, stop being so inappropriate,” Castiel grumbled, letting out a surprised yelp when Dean slid his right palm over his strained erection.

 

“Really baby? You’re hard as a rock for me but my dirty talk is inappropriate?” Dean taunted as Castiel fought to keep his hips still, eventually unable to stop himself from arching into the other boy’s touch.

 

“…Dean…We should…This is….” Castiel groaned, his fingernails digging into Dean’s thighs as the green eyed boy massaged his leaking cock.

 

“You never answered my question, Cas,” Dean said coyly, returning to the original subject of their conversation as he pressed his lips against Castiel’s neck once more. “Do you really believe God would rather you be unhappy than in a relationship with someone you truly like and feel is a good person?”

 

“…D-Dean…Th-is is blas-phemous,” Castiel gritted out with his eyes closed tightly, not bothering to hide the fact that he was desperate for Dean’s touch.

 

“When am I not, baby? Now stop stalling and answer the question,” Dean commanded.

 

“No! Okay, no! He would want me to be happy!” Castiel shouted suddenly just before he came hard, throwing his head back against Dean’s shoulder as the other boy worked him through his orgasm.

 

“Then what is there to be scared of?” Dean whispered in Castiel’s ear as he laid there, content for the moment in a post orgasm daze.

 

“…It…is not that simple, Dean…How can I enter into a relationship that is a sin by its very nature?…How can I sit here and claim to be pious when I allow myself to be led into temptation every time I am around you?” Castiel asked in a hoarse tone after a long, agonizing span of silence.

 

And there was so much sadness and desperation in his voice that Dean’s heart nearly ripped in two at the sound of it.

 

Damn it. He was definitely going to burn in the seventh circle of Hell for this.

 

“I’m sorry…Not for wanting to be with you, I’ll never apologize for that…but I’m sorry for, you know, leading you astray…” Dean sighed, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion when Castiel slowly turned over and cautiously straddled his hips.

 

“I do _not_ blame you for my sins, Dean Winchester. I am the only one who is responsible for my actions…” Castiel stated firmly as he looked down into Dean’s beautiful green eyes.

 

“…Well, I might not be fully responsible for your sins, baby…but I definitely facilitate them,” Dean joked, trying to ignore the fact that Castiel’s crotch, which was damp with cum, was pressed against his throbbing erection.

 

“…That might be true…but you also protect me and are mindful of my needs. Which is honestly more than anyone else can say…And you are right. God wants me to be happy…I just have to figure out how to be yours and still be true to my faith,” Castiel told him.

 

“How about we figure it out together?” Dean asked hopefully, his suggestion making Castiel smile.

 

“I would like that,” Castiel agreed.

 

“…So…Does that mean…You’ll be my boyfriend?” Dean wondered, holding his breath in anticipation.

 

Biting his bottom lip, Castiel remained silent for a moment, studying Dean’s face thoughtfully.

 

“…Yes…I have never had a partner but I would like to be yours…Although I am not sure what it entails,” Castiel admitted, his declaration making Dean chuckle.

 

“Dating isn’t rocket science, Cas. We just share each other’s company and have a good time together,” Dean explained.

 

“But…We have been doing that since we met…” Castiel argued, causing Dean to let out an involuntary moan when he shifted a little, brushing his crotch against his erection.

 

“…True…There are other perks too though,” Dean pointed out.

 

“Such as?” Castiel asked, barely getting the words out before Dean flipped him onto his back, pinning his arms above his head.

 

“Like giving each other mind blowing orgasms,” Dean moaned as he began to grind against Castiel.

 

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel whispered, turning his head away.

 

“…Do…you want me to stop?” Dean asked, hating that the other boy refused to look at him.

 

“N-no…I am just…” Castiel mumbled his face blood red.

 

“Shy?” Dean offered as he rolled his hips, noticing that Castiel was meeting each one of his movements.

 

Nodding his head, Castiel let out a strangled moan when Dean leaned down and nipped at his neck.

 

And that was all it took for the green eyed boy to lose his cool, coming hard before collapsing on top Castiel.

 

“…Dean…” Castiel whispered a few minutes later, gingerly running his hand through the other boy’s hair. “…I…We…cannot tell my parents…They will not understand…”

 

Letting out a deep breath, Dean pressed a soft kiss to Castiel’s chest before rolling to the side to prop himself up on his left elbow.

 

Panting, he took a moment before responding, still soaking up the afterglow effects of his orgasm.

 

“What are you saying, Cas? That you want to be my boyfriend but it has to be a secret?” Dean wondered, earning a sad, desperate look from his best friend.

 

“…Just for the time being…I hope to eventually tell me parents of my depravity…I just need time,” Castiel mumbled in a pitiful tone.

 

“Je- I mean dang it, Cas. You aren’t depraved,” Dean said angrily. “…But if you need to keep our relationship on the DL for a while, I guess I understand.”

 

Dean knew it was a terrible idea. Keeping their relationship a secret could only spell trouble for Castiel and him, but Dean was desperate. He wanted Castiel more than he’d ever wanted anyone and now that he had finally coaxed the preacher’s son out of his shell, even if it was only a little bit, he wasn’t going to let him get away.

 

“…Thank you, Dean…I know you do not feel as though we should have to keep our relationship a private matter, but I appreciate your willingness to accommodate me,” Castiel replied as he turned to face the other boy.

 

“…Cas…We really need to work on your conversation skills. I seriously feel like we just made a business arrangement,” Dean huffed, gently running his hand down Castiel’s side, the action causing the blue eyed boy to shiver.

 

“What do you mean? I simply thanked you for being kind…” Castiel argued, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “…How else was I supposed to say it?”

 

“I dunno, Cas…Maybe ‘thanks for understanding babe’? Anything but ‘I appreciate your willingness to accommodate me.’ You seriously sound like you just booked a motel room and are happy that I could put you on the top floor,” Dean teased, unable to stop himself from smiling at Castiel’s mild look of annoyance.

 

“Thanks for understanding… _babe_ ,” Castiel mocked, the word ‘babe’ sounding almost foreign coming out of his mouth.

 

Sighing, Dean leaned forward, gingerly pressing his lips against Castiel’s.

 

“We’ll work on pet names later, baby,” Dean chuckled. “For now, let’s go get cleaned up.”

 

Shifting up to his knees, Dean had just made a move to crawl to the edge of his mattress when he felt Castiel grab his left wrist.

 

“Dean. I do not wish to sound ignorant but I am worried about something and I was wondering if you could offer some clarity?” Castiel asked, his voice low and timid.

 

“Of course, Cas,” Dean replied as the other boy sat up so that they were face to face.

 

“What…What if this does not work out? I would be very upset if a failed sexual relationship ruined our friendship…You…mean the world to me, I do not want to lose you,” Castiel admitted in a whisper.

 

Unable to stop his eyes from going wide with shock upon hearing Castiel's confession, Dean shifted nervously, his best friend’s declaration causing him to blush.

 

Shit. Why couldn’t this kid just let him get it in and ditch? Of course Dean had to mess around and develop feelings for the preacher’s son. Just great.

 

“…Hey, first of all, this is totally going to work out so stop thinking that it won’t,” Dean ordered softly as he cupped Castiel’s cheek in his hand. “Secondly, you aren’t going to lose me, buddy. We’re best friends and that’s how we’re going to stay.”

 

“Do you promise?” Castiel asked in a hopeful tone, the innocence of his question causing Dean to feel slightly nauseated.

 

Jesus. He should not be doing this. Castiel was far too sweet and pure for him to taint. Too bad Dean was a selfish asshole and couldn’t stop himself.

 

“Yeah, baby. I promise. Now c’mon,” Dean urged, taking Castiel by the hand as they both stood up from the bed. “Let’s clean up and get some food.”

 

“Okay, babe,” Castiel agreed, the term of endearment sounding a little less forced that time.

 

Honestly, it actually sounded pretty amazing coming from Castiel.

 

“Not bad boyfriend,” Dean teased, his praise causing the other boy to blush.

 

“…I…I like this…And despite my qualms about the whole situation. I am happy to be your boyfriend,” the preacher’s son confessed, a giddy smile on his handsome face.

 

Smiling back, Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand affectionately before leading him to the bathroom.

 

Shit. This was bad. All Dean had wanted was to roll around in the sheet a couple times with the preacher’s son with the intention of sending him packing after he’d had his fun. However, now that Dean had gotten to know Castiel, and consequently fallen for the socially awkward weirdo, his whole world had been turned upside down. Dean didn’t do boyfriends…or girlfriends for that matter. He also hated to be out of his element, which he totally was with this whole “serious relationship” crap.

 

“You know, Cas…This is all pretty new to me as well…” Dean admitted once they were both locked away in the bathroom.

 

“What are you referring to, Dean?” Castiel wondered, cocking his head to the side in that cute way that made Dean’s heart flutter.

 

Oh yeah, he was SO screwed.

 

"I mean having a boyfriend,” Dean mumbled as he grabbed a couple of washcloths from the cabinet.

 

“Oh, and you are nervous?” Castiel asked timidly, staring at the other boy with his big, innocent blue eyes.

 

“Well, yeah. I don’t want to screw it up. Especially since I’ll be your first boyfriend,” Dean confessed, hating how self-conscious he felt.

 

He was Dean Winchester, damn it. He didn’t get nervous. And he sure as hell didn’t doubt himself.

 

“Dean, you were…my first kiss as well and…I do not believe you screwed that up…” Castiel pointed out as Dean turned on the sink.

 

“That’s different, Cas,” Dean chuckled, putting the washcloths under the hot water. “I know how to kiss…I don’t know how to be someone’s boyfriend.”

 

“Neither do I, Dean. So I guess it looks as though, for once, the playing field is even,” Castiel mused, his choice of words making Dean flinch slightly as he turned off the water.

 

“Touché, baby,” Dean huffed, shaking his head.

 

"It is okay…We can…learn together. At least I would like to, would you?” the preacher’s son asked as he accepted the washcloth Dean was handing him.

 

Looking into Castiel’s eyes, Dean couldn’t help but smile. Despite the fact that Castiel looked incredibly nervous, there was an air of determination surrounding him and it gave Dean the confidence he needed to nod his head yes.

 

“Yeah, I totally would,” Dean agreed, his heart skipping a beat when Castiel smiled back at him.

 

And so it began. Dean “rebel child” Winchester was officially (but secretly) dating Mr. Goody Two-Shoes.

 

This should definitely be interesting.


End file.
